I'm Yours To Keep
by LiKv
Summary: As the trio start their sixth year of Hogwarts, Hermione meet and fall hopelessly in love with the new student, a certain Tom Riddle. / Rated M for abuse and sexual content.
1. Prologue

Voldemort, or Tom, as he had to get used to being called, honestly had to say he was surprised that Dumbledore and his little protégés hadn't found out about his past. As far as Voldemort knew, no one knew Tom Riddle, the wizard in Britain. The only Tom Riddle existing was his filthy muggle born father who had supposedly died in a tragic accident some fifty years ago. When professor Dippet had come to the orphanage so many years ago, Tom had been asked to be known by the name Marvolo Gaunt, and so it should be. It had all been a happy coincidence really, that Dippet had only listed him as Marvolo. There wasn't a paper trail that anyone named Tom Riddle had ever gone to Hogwarts, and the rest of the few clues that could lead to his exposure, Voldemort had simply made disappear.

Admiring his looks in the mirror, Voldemort figured he couldn't complain about the positively dashing good looks he'd gotten from that scumbag of a father of his. His mother had been no beauty, but Tom and Thomas Riddle had certainly been handsome, and even though they were filthy muggles, they had both looked like men with power. This, of course, suited Voldemort perfectly.

It had been hard work; he had to admit, to stay hidden for the past two years. He'd been working on an elixir that made his somewhat snakelike appearance disappear, and he would turn into his old, twenty two looking self. That was, as far as he knew, the point where the changes in his body had started, so he'd gone for that. He didn't know if the red in his eyes would truly disappear, but he simply didn't care. The elixir had been very successful, and he did indeed look like his old self again, and more than that, he also felt both younger and fresher, a side effect he quite frankly was thankful for. He didn't know if he would stay this way after his plan had been accomplished, that was a problem for the future; right now his only concern was breaking Potter down. The only thing that could be a problem with his plan, was that both the Weasley girl and Potter had seen Marvolo Gaunt coming out of the diary (stupid Malfoy, Voldemort thought to himself), but he could easily send a small little spell he'd worked on in their general direction, and they would simply believe him to be someone they'd known a long time ago.

His plan was quite simple actually, so simple it was almost ridiculous. He would get back to Hogwarts; back to the place his story had begun, to end it all. He simply needed to go to Professor Dumbledore and convince him that he was in fact, Tom Riddle, the home schooled boy from southern England who had decided to take his N.E.W.T's at Hogwarts.

With one last look at himself in the mirror, he disapparated from his hiding place, and landed softly in Hogsmeade, intending to waltz into the Headmesters office and beg him to take him in. Another lucky happening in Voldemort's favour, was that Dumbledore had been taking some time off to travel when Voldemort was at school in the first place, and therefore, he did not know the face of neither Marvolo Gaunt nor Tom Riddle for that matter. Maybe Dumbledore had seen him once or twice, but if the Headmaster asked, it would be all too easy to explain.

His cloak floated around him like some sort of morbid cloud as he walked through the gates of Hogwarts and up towards the castle. He had to admit he felt a vague hint of nostalgia as he opened the doors to the Grand Entrance, and had to suppress a smile when he saw that nothing had changed in the past fifty years. With an act of awkwardness and curiosity, he roamed the halls for a while, until he stumbled on to professor McGonagall outside the library. Of course it had to be her, that wicked old hag.

"Excuse me, madam," he stuttered rather awkwardly. He had to look down to avoid smiling at her somewhat bewildered face.

"Who are you," she said, her face suddenly looking very stern. She looked pretty much exactly like Voldemort remembered her from their school days, except older and cleverer. How on earth she had managed to get placed in Gryffindor and not in Ravenclaw was beyond him.

"My name is Tom Riddle, mam," he said, giving her an awkward but still charming smile. "I'm here to see Headmaster Dumbledore about taking my N.E.W.T year here at Hogwarts. She gave him a stiff smile, obviously approving of his choice.

"Very well, Mr Riddle," McGonagall answered. "I will follow you to Professor Dumbledore's office. I am Professor McGonagall, the transfiguration teacher." They went through the very well-known halls of Hogwarts, and pretended to be very interested in what was behind basically every door along the way. According to plan, she eventually told him that she would distribute a guide to him when term officially started.

"Would it be possible, Professor, that you would ask someone academically… gifted? You see, I'm very interested in meeting people at my own level." He certainly didn't want some lousy Frankie-first-year to show him around a school he knew better than any other student ever would. Of course, there was only one student he really wanted, but he wanted McGonagall to reach that conclusion on her own, he didn't want her to believe he had any sort of agenda.

"Of course," McGonagall answered, "I have just the girl for you."

Shortly after they had entered the third floor corridor, he saw the familiar stone gargoyle in front of him. The professor spoke the password, and the stone stairwell started to spin. Tom smiled in wonder as he put his foot on the step. He hadn't been in that room since he'd asked for a job so many years ago, and Dumbledore would hardly recognize him as the same man he was back then. Now his cheeks were fuller, his smile was warmer, and his eyes looked more innocent, like the past forty years hadn't happened at all. His somewhat demonic featured had disappeared too, so what was left was a young, handsome boy with a boyish charm.

The stairwell stopped, and Voldemort knocked the door two times.

"Come in," a familiar voice said from the inside. He sounded tired. Might as well be, the man was ancient. Voldemort had often thought of himself as an old man, but Dumbledore had already been old when Voldemort had gone to Hogwarts in the first place. The man had to be at least a hundred, give or take a few years.

Voldemort, now Tom Riddle, opened the door to the Headmasters office, and could with pleasure see that absolutely nothing about the circular room had changed.


	2. The Beginning

Hermione Granger was annoyed at Ron Weasley. She usually was these days, seeing as he was such a complete and utter arse against her sometimes. Luckily, they were going to Hogwarts in just a few days, which was a bright side in several ways. The most prominent one being that she could run away to the library if Ron bothered her too much. She knew that she must have some feelings for him, or else everything he did wouldn't bother her so much, but she still wish he didn't exist most of the time. Harry was, as usual trying to mend everything between them, but Hermione was so tired of boys. She had been spending a lot of time with Ginny over the summer though, and even though the girls had been friends before, Hermione felt that she and Ginny had really connected over the summer.

But back to the issue she was having with Ron at the moment. Hermione was just about to get out to feed Mrs Weasley's hens when Ron had made a snarky comment about her wearing nothing but a sun dress. Harry of course tried to joke it down, Ginny had just looked plainly at Ron, but for Hermione it was the final straw. She had given Ron a mouthful of just exactly what she thought about him, and then left in a fury. So now she was wandering about in the nearby town, Ottery St. Catchpole.

She'd been wandering around for a while, trying to find something that could be called a library, because she knew she'd read about it somewhere, but it was like it was erased from the ground. Finally, she didn't have any other choice but to ask a native of this small town. She went in to a café that seemed to be the gathering of the teenagers of the town.

"Excuse me sir," she said to this boy her own age, he seemed to be working there. "Could you please tell me where the town library is?"

The boy gave her an excellent grin when he saw her. He was tall, blonde and handsome, much like some of the men from the muggle chick flicks she used to watch with her mother over the holidays. "It's just a couple of minutes down the road. It's right next to the farmacy." He eyeballed her up and down as he spoke.

"Great, thanks," Hermione answered with a smug little smile. She hadn't been looked at like that for ages, not since Krum anyway. She fished around in her small purse for some muggle money her mother had sent with her as a treat. "Could I please get a coffee to go, too?"

The boy poured a coffee for her. "It's on the house, my dear," he said as he handed it to her. "I'm Lucas by the way."

"Oh, my, thank you, Lucas. I'm Hermione," she smiled and took the coffee from the boy. In a sudden moment of boldness she usually didn't have when speaking to boys, let alone handsome ones, she quickly asked him when he got off work.

"I'm done in about an hour," he answered with a bright smile. "You know," he leaned closer to her as he spoke, "if I hadn't known better, I would think you were trying to pick me up."

Hermione suddenly blushed furiously, and stuttered something about her having to leave.

"I'll meet you outside the library in an hour then," he called after her as she left the door. She could practically feel his eyes on her back, and she couldn't help but to smile a little.

It didn't take her long to find the library when she finally had got some direction. She chatted with the librarian for a while, about new releases of some muggle authors she enjoyed very much, and not long after she was buried deeply in a very interesting book about an old kingdom and their kings. It was all fiction of course, but the author had very much captured some of the magic she could recall being used a long time ago. She made a mental note to check if the author was indeed a wizard.

Hermione liked living like a muggle on the holidays. Reading books about magic from a muggle's point of view. She remembered when she'd first gotten her letter to go to Hogwarts. She'd been reading all the muggle books about magic she could find, before actually going. Roald Dahl's Witches was still on the top of her list, just because of the ridicule of it all. Of course, when she'd read it when she was young, she had been a bit scared that she would too, become a witch like that. Luckily she'd discovered soon enough that it was all codswallop of course.

She didn't realise she'd been reading the book for a little over an hour until someone coughed beside her. She looked up, and Lucas stood there, smiling at her.

"Hi," she said as she made a mental note to send an owl to her parents asking her to buy the book for her. Lucas looked even more handsome when he was not in his working attire. He wore a pair of black jeans, a jumper and a thin jacket, and looked positively dashing.

"Hello, Hermione. Do you want to check that out," he asked, referring to the book.

"Oh, no," she answered. "I'm leaving for school soon, and can't take it with me."

"Well then, let's get going," he said, holding his arm out in a very gentleman manner, so very different from what Ron offered her.

She smiled and put her arm in his, and together they walked out of the library. They spent the evening walking around the small town, him showing her around. They talked a lot, and laughed even more. He was very interesting, and he seemed really smart. Of course, she hadn't been keeping up with every new bit of information going on in the muggle world, so she really didn't understand all of it, and it was kind of freeing, not being the centre of intellect.

After a while, she started freezing, and wondered if she should head home for the Burrow soon. He, however, obviously sensed that she was cold, and put his jacket ever so gallantly around her shoulders.

"Let me show you the park," he said and gently steered her away from the road. They'd been walking around the park a while, but hadn't gone in to it. It was really beautiful. She didn't much care for trimmed bushes and quite enjoyed the Weasley's garden, but this was sort of a mix. It had this worn down glory about it, which was exactly what Hermione loved about it, and probably everything else in her life.

They sat down on a bench in the middle of it all, and Hermione looked around her a bit. "It's really beautiful here," she said with a glint in her eye.

"Even more so with you here," he said. It was obvious there hadn't been anyone new to the town in a while. "I've quite enjoyed myself tonight, Hermione."

"Me too," she said, blushing a bit. "It was nice to get out of the house."

"Where do you live?"

"I'm staying with some friends from school until term starts," she said, and a sudden pang of guilt hit her as she realized the Weasley's must have been worried sick by now. Oh, well. They could blame Ron for being so incredibly rude to her. Anyway, it wasn't like any Death Eaters would jump her right now, was it? Probably not. And anyway, she had her wand in her purse, she could hopefully hold them off until she was back within the protected area of the Burrow.

Lucas looked a little unhappy with her statement though. "A boyfriend," he asked bluntly.

"Oh, no," she answered hastily. "It's just some friends. They live on the south side of the town, but I don't think they come in to town often."

He looked reassured, and smiled at her. "You know," he said, "I meant what I said earlier. You really do look beautiful."

Hermione blushed again, not used to getting compliments about her looks. She hadn't done anything special today, so it was kind of nice getting a compliment.

Without another word he leaned in against her and brushed his lips against hers. Hermione was slightly surprised, not at all being used to guys doing that, but maybe they were more forward in the muggle world these days? However, she did do him the courtesy of answering the kiss. It was warm and soft, and she felt her body rush with excitement. It was so very long since she'd kissed someone properly, not since Krum. She had kissed Ron once, but it was all very wet and sloppy. Lucas kissed more like Krum, like a man with experience.

Hermione deepened the kiss, and she could feel his arms glide around her waist and down to her hips. She could feel her body reacting to him, and she let her hands drift down his back and over his thigh. She of course, knew she wasn't supposed to arouse a man with no intention of doing anything about it, but she just couldn't help herself. Lucas was so… tempting.

With a final kiss he drew away from her and looked at her with a grin. "I should probably get you home," he said.

"Yes, probably," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She had to admit she had been under the impression that he would sweep her off her feet and carry her to his bed, but of course, since he had acted nothing but a complete gentleman, he wouldn't do that.

They walked kind of awkwardly side by side for a while, in the general direction of south. About half-way to the Burrow, he stopped though. "Hermione," he said, making her turn towards him. "I want to meet you again."

Hermione felt her chest fill up with happiness at his request. "Tomorrow," she said. "If you're not working we could… You know, do something." She seemed to have lost her words. It was ironic, the clever headed girl with the big mouth, finally seemed to have lost her words for someone. It didn't happen often.

"I'm free as a bird," he said with a smile. "So, when would you do me the favour of meeting you?"

After arranging a time and place for tomorrow's meeting, he followed her to the end of town, and kissed her ever so gently before they parted. Hermione was literally skipping down the road towards the burrow, and the smile on her face was still big when she walked in to the Burrow's kitchen. Only Mr Weasley was still up, just to make sure she got home before midnight. Hermione was glad, if Mrs Weasley had been the one to be awake, she would probably hear a lot of fuss over where she had been and who she had been with. Mr Weasley only winked at her before he headed towards the bedroom.

Hermione still smiled when she laid on her make-shift bed in Ginny's room.


	3. The Debut

Even if Hermione hadn't heard a lot of fuss from Mrs Weasley when she got home the night before, she clearly heard it over breakfast.

"Now where were you all night? You could hardly have stayed at the library all that time. They must close sometime. Yes, of course I know that's where you went. Did you meet someone? Who were you with? Did you make sure to eat?" It was a long cluster of words, and Hermione barely got to say a word. She mentioned that she'd met someone she'd talked to all night, but didn't mention it was a boy, nor that she'd shared a passionate kiss with said boy.

Ginny smiled secretively at her, and Hermione made a mental note to talk to her as soon as she could. She had to share this with someone, but somehow, she was under the impression that Ginny had understood a whole lot more than what Mrs Weasley had done. She had the same impression with Mr Weasley, but he did nothing but read his paper. Ron, however, looked stone sour.

"Do you want some more eggs, Hermione? You do look a bit pale, were you treated right by whomever you were out with last night," Molly fussed so much, Hermione was getting a bit tired at listening to her. Obviously, Mr Weasley caught her discomfort.

"Leave her alone, Molly," he said. "She just needed some time for herself."

It seemed to shut Mrs Weasley up for a while, but Hermione had the impression it wasn't the end of the conversation.

Mr Weasley went back to his paper, and Harry started to talk Quidditch to Ron, just to get him to stop sending Hermione the Death Stare.

"Harry, can I borrow Hedwig," she asked a bit later, when they were finished eating. "I need to send an owl to my mother."

"Of course," he answered. "She's up with Pig. I can get her for you if you want."

"That would be great, thanks Harry," she smiled. She found some parchment and a quill, and wrote a quick letter to her mother.

_Dear mum and dad._

_Life in the Burrow is great. I was in the nearby town yesterday and went to the library. I found this amazing book, but I can't seem to remember the name of it. Could you go to the bookstore for me and get it? They don't have a bookstore here, and I won't go to London before I leave for school. Just ask the cashier, it's about a battle between kings over a land, and it has magic in it. And it's all very complicated. It's gold or orange and thick as a brick._

_I met a boy yesterday, we walked around for hours, just talking. He was so great, and really smart. He kind of reminds me of those prince charming type of boy that is in one of those movies we saw when I was at home. He was a complete gentleman, and walked me back to the Burrow when it was late._

_Hope you are well,_

_Love, Hermione_.

She sent the letter with Hedwig, and while Harry and Ron went out to de-gnome the garden, Hermione and Ginny ran away from the kitchen before Mrs Weasley could start to ask questions again. The girls hid in Mr Weasleys garage as Hermione talked Ginny through the evening before. She'd heard a lot about Ginny's love life and all her wooers, and it felt so good to finally be able to tell her friend something of her own. She told everything down to the last detail, except that rush of feelings when Lucas had kissed her. Just that, she didn't want to share with Ginny. She knew that Ginny probably wasn't a virgin anymore, but their friendship weren't quite there yet. Or at least, that was what Hermione thought, until Ginny herself started talking.

"He sounds quite amazing," Ginny said dreamy. "Did you feel anything?"

Hermione looked at her with a peculiar expression, not quite sure if Ginny was asking her just exactly what she thought.

"You know," Ginny said, "did he turn you on?" Ginny wasn't a shy girl, Hermione knew, but for Merlin's sake, she couldn't just… Could she?

"Oh, come on. I've slept with Dean Thomas. He was quite a catch," she said secretively. Hermione wasn't quite sure what she heard, Ginny was just fifteen. "Oh, come on, don't be such a prude, Hermione. Did he make you feel anything?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said, blushing. "But before anything could happen, he offered to walk me home." She was a bit bitter about that fact, but of course, she couldn't have thrown herself at him, could she?

"To be such a clever girl you can be such a fool sometimes," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "When he asked if it was time for you to get home, you should have said no. Dad wouldn't have cared one bit, and mum… Well, dad would shut her up for a while. If you'd said no, he'd probably tell you it was getting chilly, and that you should probably go back to his place." Ginny answered her speech rather matter-of-factly; a tone there was no doubt that she had inherited from spending so much time with Hermione herself.

"I will go out with him again today though," Hermione said slowly. Maybe there was actually some hope? But how could she even think that though, she'd known the guy for less than twenty-four hours. However, it could be exactly what Hermione needed to loosen up a bit. She had always been kind of afraid of the sexual aspects of life, as she'd never had anyone to talk about it with, and the fact that it wasn't something she could read herself up on(not that she hadn't tried).

"Brilliant," Ginny squealed. "We have to find out what you're going to wear. When are you meeting him?"

An hour later, Hermione came down for lunch in a very pretty sun dress, and some low heeled sandals. Not that much of a change from yesterday, except that Ginny had done a neat little trick with her hair, which made it much more tolerable. They had figured out that there was no use of makeup, since it was still very hot in England, and he'd seen her without makeup yesterday, he would manage today too.

Ron gawked at her as she walked down, a sign Hermione took as a compliment. Harry actually complimented her, saying she did look very nice. Ginny positively beamed. Mrs Weasley, however, was very suspicious.

"Are you going somewhere, my dear," Mrs Weasley asked very stiffly.

"Yes, I'm meeting someone after lunch today," Hermione answered simply as she sat down next to the kitchen table. Her and Ginny had talked it over, and found out that it was no use in hiding where she was going. Hermione Granger actually had a date. Ginny found it as a reason to celebrate, seeing as Hermione, even though being asked out before, hadn't actually said yes to anyone since Krum.

"Who," Ron asked. He looked sour again.

"It certainly isn't any of your business," she answered, but she saw the curiosity on Harry's face, so she figured she might as well tell. "A boy I met yesterday in the town."

Ron grumbled something about him probably being a Death Eater, which even Harry laughed at. They all knew perfectly well that the protection around the Burrow was so strong, that no one in their right minds would believe that there was a wizard family living near Ottery St. Catchpole.

"Stop being such a cockblock," Ginny hissed at Ron, when she was sure her mother wasn't listening. It made Ron look even more sourly.

Another hour later, Hermione walked up the small road towards the town. Ginny had made sure Ron wouldn't follow her, since she'd offered them a game of apple-Quidditch.

Hermione was quite excited to meet Lucas again, and hoped very dearly that he wouldn't stand her up. She was, however, in luck. When she walked through the final barricades, she could see him where they'd agreed to meet. He was looking quite handsome today as well. He was wearing the same black trousers as yesterday, and a nicely fitting t-shirt over what she noticed, was quite defined muscles.

They sat down outside a little café and picked up the conversation from yesterday. It was like she had known him all her life. He was so easy to talk to, just as easy as it was to talk to Harry, Ron and Ginny in fact. They stayed at the café for a couple of hours, before he invited her over to his flat for some dinner. Hermione, eager to eat some easy muggle food, and to stay with Lucas for as long as she could, of course answered yes.

Lucas's flat was not very big. It was just two rooms and a small bathroom, but it was very classy. She guessed his mother might have had something to do with decorating it (he had mentioned that she worked at a furniture store), and it had the touch of a woman. In the main area there was a small kitchenette with just enough room for two people to stand a little too close. The sitting area was however a bit bigger. There was quite a large sofa, who she guessed would double as a guest bed, a TV and a book case. There was a small balcony right outside, which she guessed would have the evening sun shining nice all night. She hoped she could stay to watch it. The biggest surprise for her, however, was that it was spotless, it had worried her, that it would be as Ron's room, or the boy's dormitory at school, but it wasn't. It was so clean and perfect.

They cooked dinner together, it was just a simple dish of pasta, some chicken and some pesto, but it tasted delicious. They moved to the balcony after eating, and sat next to each other on the small bench out there. It wasn't much, that was true, but she could sit with him, and right now, that was enough.

"Do you want some wine," he asked after a while of more talking.

Hermione had never drunk much in her life, but she'd had some wine before, and had enjoyed it. "Why not," she answered.

They settled on a bottle of chilled white wine, and sat enjoying the evening sun on the balcony for a while. Lucas was really great, he'd had this great childhood with a lot of travelling, but the family had decided some years ago that they should settle down for a while. Until he finished school anyway. He'd admitted to missing the travelling, but it wasn't such a big deal now that he had some friends in this "god forsaken place". He wasn't so keen on the location of his family, but admitted his past year had been a good one, since he'd gotten a job and got to meet new people every day.

"Of course, meeting you will probably be the highlight of my year," he finished with a mischievous grin on his face.

Hermione blushed again. She wasn't used to this.

"More wine," he asked and poured another glass for her before she could answer.

"If I hadn't known better," she said, mimicking yesterday's meeting, "I would say that you're trying to get me drunk."

He laughed heartily. "If I did believe for a second that you couldn't handle it, you would have been cut off a long time ago," he said honestly.

Lucas leaned in on her, just like yesterday, and kissed her, just like yesterday. Hermione wasn't so shy in answering this time, and leaned her body in to his in a passionate kiss. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the wine, but she was definitely feeling… aroused. She planted her arms around his neck, and his found their way down to her waist. They were on for a full make-out session when his hands started travelling towards her breasts. Hermione had never quite understood why female breasts were so desirable for men, but when his hand cupped her right breast she let out a moan into his mouth. Lucas took it as a sign to keep going, and Hermione got bolder as well.

Her hands found their way down towards his stomach and she felt his muscles underneath his t-shirt. She had been aroused before, of course, but she'd never been this intimidate with a man, and it was making her body ache for his touch. With one hand cupping the bulge in his jeans, she used the other one to guide his down to her thigh and under her dress.

"Why don't we walk inside," he said huskily against her lips. Hermione nodded, and he took her hand and steered her inside and towards his bedroom. Hermione barely noticed that the bedroom looked quite as good as the rest of the house, before her lips were locked with his again.

Hermione's hands travelled underneath his shirt again, and soon it was off. He was obviously working out quite a bit, she noticed, but didn't care too much, since his hands were struggling with the zipper of her dress.

"Say yes," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she answered passionately, and as on a queue, her dress fell to the floor. Lucas let out a groan at the sight of her body, and Hermione had to smile. They kissed again, and let their hands travel over each other's bodies. As Lucas focused his hands on her breasts, she was yanking his pants open, and revealed underpants in a standing ovation. She let her hand run over his length through his boxers, and it had to be good, because he groaned and gave her a little push towards the bed. She laid down, as he got out of his pants, and soon they were lying next to each other in just their undies.

Lucas laid himself on top of her, kissing her body down towards her breasts. When he got the bra off, and his lips surrounded her nipples she almost came right then and there. Who would have known it could be this good to just be touched and kissed? Her body worked her own way around him, and without being able to control it, her hips bucked towards him, and she could feel his cock brush against her pussy.

"Fuck me," she said, quite frankly. Lucas didn't need to be asked twice. As with magic, he had removed both Hermione's and his own underpants, and laid on top of her again.

"Uh," he looked awkward. "Do you… Do you use protection?"

"Yes," answered Hermione. She'd been on the pill since she was about fourteen, because of menstrual cramps.

"Good," he whispered and kissed her again very passionately. She answered the kiss, and thrust her hips towards his. She needed him inside her, now. He obviously seemed to have got the message, as he positioned his cock before her opening, and slowly slipped inside of her.

Hermione moaned in delight. It wasn't half as hurtful as she had thought, and it wasn't a bad pain, it was a good pain, and soon it went away completely. Lucas started to slowly thrust in and out of her, which caused her to moan each time, she was dripping wet, and dripping with sweat by now.

"Lucas," she moaned as he bit her neck hungrily. She let her own hand run down to rub her clit as she was so shamelessly being fucked. "Faster," she cried, feeling her climax building up in her like a ticking bomb. He started thrusting both harder and faster, which made Hermione completely loose it. Her body worked by itself, thrusting against him as he pushed in to her again and again.

"I'm going to come," she cried out between the hard thrusts, and she could feel her whole body tensing up in one wonderful moment right before her climax. She could feel herself tightening around his length, which was enough for him. Lucas let out a long moan as he thrust himself hard and deep into her and had a violent orgasm. Hermione's whole body was shaking uncontrollably beneath him, and she screamed out his name as she came as hard as she'd never managed on her own.

/**A/N: **A couple of things, really. First, I am so very thankfull that so many of you are following my store. I've hardly written anything in the past few years.

Also, the fic worked in a way I thought it wouldn't. I never planned for her to meet Lucas, but she just did. I think I'm just following the words here. (PS: He looks like Lucas from OTH)


	4. The Last Night At The Burrow

Hermione had snuck back into the Burrow hours later, and when she woke up the next day she knew she was in deep trouble. First of all, her thighs were stiff as poles, seeing sex wasn't an activity she usually found herself practicing, and second, she'd gotten back to the Burrow so late, that even Mr Weasley had gone to bed.

She got dressed quickly, wondering how at all she was going to have time to pack all her stuff, meet Lucas, and still convince Mrs Weasley that she wasn't actually seeing Lucas. The answer, was as always, in the library. She could just say she'd borrowed a book at the library, so she had to go back to the town. Yes, she would do that, but first, breakfast.

The breakfast table was cramped. Bill and Fleur had decided to come and visit, as well had Fred and George. And between Mr Weasley who had brought a lot of work home it seemed, Harry and Ron who were polishing their brooms, and Mrs Weasley trying to fit everything breakfast related on the small table, it was quite difficult for Hermione to find a spot. She finally slumped down right next to Fred, who was in an awfully cheery mood.

"Good morning, Hermione," he said happily as he piled jam on top of his toast. "Slept well?"

Hermione was about to answer, when Mrs Weasley cut her off.

"Slept and slept. Where were you last night young girl? I didn't hear you come in until two in the morning! It's an outrage."

"Mrs Weasley. I told you, I was meeting someone," Hermione tried, but Mrs Weasley was obviously deaf on that ear. She kept going on and on about being worried sick, but from Mr Weasleys expression, it wasn't a big deal. Ron still looked pissed though, and Hermione had to wonder what on earth she could have done to make him act so absolutely like an arse this time. After all, it was his own fault that she'd even met Lucas in the first place.

A while later after breakfast was cleared, Hermione sat outside with the younger crowd of the Weasleys, Fred, George, Ginny and Harry. Ron was nowhere to be seen, but she wouldn't have expected anything else.

"Ron is quite pissed at you, Hermione," Harry said, as if having read her mind. Harry was good like that.

"I know," Hermione said, "but it's his own fault. He's been acting like a total and utter arse all summer. It's been quite unbearable, so I just had to get out of here." She rolled around in the grass so she was lying on her belly; it was still very hot for England, so she just wore some shorts.

"Well, at least something good came out of it," Ginny said slyly. Hermione sent her a Death Stare. What she'd been sharing with Ginny right after breakfast, wasn't something for her to gossip about. Luckily, Ginny caught her eye, on the other hand, so did one of the twins.

"Tell me, Hermione," Fred said with a mischievous grin, "were you two _just talking_ all night yesterday?"

"Yes," Hermione said, blushing deeply.

"Oh," George said knowingly, sending her a wink.

"No really," Hermione said, getting up on her knees now, quite stiffly, since she was still very sore.

"Okay," Fred said. "If you say so." The twins both looked at her with a knowing glance.

Harry laughed. "Hermione," he said. "None of us will tell." He shot a glance at the twins, promising them a long and painful death if they actually did tell anyone. "But it's just normal."

"Oh yeah, how did you fuck then," the sour voice of Ron Weasley broke the small silence that had formed. Ron had obviously been standing behind a tree, listening to what they were saying for a while now. "Having a little meeting on our own, are we?"

"I hardly believe that's any of your business, brother," George muttered dangerously.

"Ron," Hermione said, "you just weren't here."

"Yeah," Fred said. "Can't we talk without you present? I wasn't aware. From now on, I'll not talk to anyone, unless you're there to allow it." The twins laughed at Ron, clearly mocking him.

"Well, if I'm so clearly not needed, I'll be going then," Ron said angrily and stomped away. Hermione kind of felt bad for him, but then she once again remembered how horrible he'd been to her all summer, and it quickly went away.

"I'd better go too," Hermione said after a while. She was going to meet Lucas in fifteen minutes. He had work later in the afternoon, so they wouldn't be able to meet for more than a couple of hours. Hermione wasn't too thrilled about that fact, seeing as she left for Hogwarts the day after, but a couple of hours were better than no hours at all.

Walking up the road from the Burrow, she couldn't help but smile. These past days had been so incredibly good, and she was said that they were over, but she and Lucas would meet again.

"You look pretty," Lucas said as they met. Hermione beamed at him. They went up to his apartment, so they would have some more private life than if they'd been in the town.

"I really don't want to leave tomorrow," Hermione said. It wasn't really a lie. If she'd been going anywhere but Hogwarts, she probably would have stayed with him.

"You don't have to, you know," he answered seriously. "You could stay here. Rent a flat, get a job."

"I can't," Hermione said. "I have to go back to school. I have exams coming up soon, and I want to learn everything I can." She was quite sad now, but she wouldn't start to cry, she'd promised herself that.

"You could be home schooled," he said. "A tutor doesn't cost much these days, and if you get a job… Or you could go to school closer to here. Where is your school anyway?"

"Oh… It's in Scotland," Hermione said. It was very general of course, but she had absolutely no idea where in Scotland Hogwarts actually was, and she couldn't very well tell him either.

"That's far," he muttered. "I don't want you to leave yet, Hermione. I really like you."

"I really like you too, Lucas," she said sadly.

The kiss they shared next, was so passionate Hermione's body felt like it was on fire. He pushed her to the wall, and pressed his body against her. Hermione moaned in to his lips as she felt his hardness against her thigh.

"We don't have time," she whispered as his hands slipped under her shirt. His hands were massaging her breast, and she really, really didn't want him to stop.

"Then we have to be quick then," Lucas said as he removed his t-shirt.

He then proceeded to fuck her so thoroughly up against that wall, that when Hermione climaxed, she actually saw stars

"Hermione," Lucas said as they were getting dressed. "Will I ever see you again?"

"I hope so," Hermione answered truthfully. "Maybe for Christmas, I can come here?"

"Maybe," he answered. "You could at least call me from time to time." He looked around for something to write on, but Hermione stopped him.

"I won't," she said. "We're not allowed to make calls at school. All contact with the outer world goes through letters." That was probably the only thing that annoyed her about Hogwarts, no electronic meant no phones.

They left his apartment in silence. Hermione was thoughtful; she would have to ask Mr Weasley how she could get mail to Lucas, without using an owl. Lucas and Hermione parted by the coffee shop he worked, where he kissed her gently on the lips. With a promise to write, Hermione went back to the Burrow. She didn't even notice she was crying until she was standing at the gate. She quickly wiped her face and went inside with a smile.

Dinner that night was quite fun, even if Ron still refused to speak to her. Mrs Weasley had gotten over the fact that Hermione wouldn't tell her what had happened, so it was all very enjoyable. Mrs Weasley had made an amazing dinner, and it was topped with a very fabulous fruit cake.

Hermione was sitting right next to Fred Weasley, who had been paying her very much attention all night, and since Mr Weasley had decided to serve them all some wine, she didn't mind one bit.

"Mr Weasley," Hermione asked in a while. "How do I get post out to muggles without using an owl?"

Mr Weasley explained to Hermione that if she sent from the post office in Hogsmeade she could send the mail through muggle mail. She could also send an owl from Hogwarts to the post office, and from there they would send it through the muggle mail.

It was nearing the end of the night, when Hermione was out to see if she had forgotten anything in the endless hours she and Ginny had been sitting in the garage. She heard a sound behind her, and turned to look at Fred Weasley. He was just standing there, looking at her with a mischievous grin.

"You scared me," Hermione said silently.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just had to see you alone." He walked towards her with confident steps, and she had to smile a little. The wine had obviously gone straight to her head, Fred Weasley couldn't be trying to hit on her, could he?

Fred touched her cheek with a little smile. "You look so beautiful," he said. Hermione had to smile a bit too. She had to admit that the twins were rather handsome, and she had been thinking about them from time to time, although she had never expected one of them to actually take up on her thoughts.

Hermione leaned in to him and in another bold moment (she'd been having quite a few of them lately), she kissed him lightly. Fred weren't slow to answer the kiss, and soon they were locked in a tight embrace. Fred kissed different than Lucas, it seemed Fred had a lot of experience, and she didn't doubt it a minute. While Lucas had been good, Fred could probably lift her off her feet with the strength he put in to the kiss.

"Mrs Weasley says it's time to go to bed." Harry's voice broke Fred and Hermione apart like a dagger had come between them. Hermione flushed madly, while Fred just smiled sheepishly at Harry.

"Potter, right on the nick of time," Fred said slyly. "It's rude to disturb you know."

"Oh, sod off," Harry said tiredly. "Hermione, we should probably get going. We have to leave quite early tomorrow."

With one last look back at Fred, Hermione followed Harry out of the garage, and in to the kitchen. No one was there, so they could talk freely.

"Hermione, two boys in one day? Never thought you would be the type," Harry said. He sat down by the kitchen table and look at her with the judging eyes of a brother. It was in that exact moment that Hermione realised that even if she fell in love a hundred times, Harry would never be one of them.

"I just… I'm a teen too, Harry," she said sheepishly. "I feel that everyone is more experienced than me, and now I too have someone to talk about in the dormitories at night."

"You'll really tell Parvati and Lavender that you were caught snogging Fred Weasley?"

"Oh, no! Of course not, I mean… Maybe! The girls are talking about the twins all the time, how unreachable they are, and I haven't had anyone to talk to since Krum, and they didn't want to hear about him, they were jealous. But Lucas and Fred, they're just people."

"Just, be careful, Hermione," Harry said. "I care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt."

Hermione smiled at him. She felt the exact same way about him, of course, but it was so good to hear. Ron had never told him that he'd protect her if something bad happened, but even if Harry hadn't either, she knew that Harry would.

They went to bed shortly after, and Hermione couldn't help but think that maybe it was good that she and Fred had been interrupted. It just as may had caused too much drama to be attached to one of the Weasley's right now, even if it was for just one night.


	5. Going Back To Hogwarts

The morning after they had such a hurry to get to the train, that Hermione didn't have a chance to talk to Ginny, Fred or Harry. She could always talk to Ginny on the train though, and if Fred really wanted anything to do with her, he could always send her an owl.

Hermione thanked Mr and Mrs Weasley for the stay and the food, and she couldn't properly relax before she finally sat down on the Hogwarts Express. She hadn't bothered to sit with the prefects today, mostly because Ron kept sending her death stares every few moments, so she sat with Harry, Luna, Ginny and Neville in a compartment to themselves. It was quite enjoyable. The boys talked about Quidditch, Luna was reading the newest Quibbler magazine and playing with Crookshanks, Ginny and Hermione was chatting away about classes. Hermione had promised to help Ginny out as much as possible with her upcoming O.W.L's.

It was dark when the train arrived at Hogsmeade platform, and it was the usual hustle with getting from the train to the carriages, and then up to the castle. Hermione was quite glad to see the castle, but she wished she could have told Lucas the truth of course. She was going to miss him, but she didn't think he'd understand. This was home.

The feast was just as delicious as it had always been, and she ate quite a lot of pork chops, seeing as there was ages since she'd eaten anything. She was talking to Harry and Ron about Snape being appointed professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts. That was not good news, and it was only something big like that, that could make Ron talk to her again right now. Snape would probably spend the lessons trying to find ways to hex Harry without anyone caring.

Hermione and Ron were on their way up towards the dormitories when Professor McGonagall approached her.

"Ms Granger, a word please," she said in a stern voice. What on earth could she have done wrong now?

"Of course, professor," Hermione answered. She left the first years with Ron, and followed McGonagall in to the Great Hall again.

"I would like you to meet out new student, Tom Riddle," professor McGonagall said. A young man was standing next to her. He was maybe Hermiones age, a year older perhaps. He had a careless look of handsomeness over him. He had dark hair, a strong jaw and secretive eyes. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome with his strong jaw, lean body, and charming being.

"Ms Granger, I presume," the stranger said, and held out a hand for her. She shook his hand, with a smile.

"Ms Granger. Riddle here came to the school a few days ago, intending to study for his N.E.W.T's. He was sorted in to Slytherin before the ceremony, since he is much older than the first years of course. He is a very intelligent young man, which was obvious when he sat through some tests to see if he was fit for a seventh year course." She gave the boy a very rare smile.

"But, Professor, what do you want me to do," Hermione asked curiously. There was something about the young boy that alarmed her, but she couldn't point her finger at it. It was probably nothing though; maybe she was still woozy from yesterday's events.

"There are few your age who can challenge you academically," McGonagall said, "but I believe I've met the one. I however, will let that be up to you. I want you to show him around and perhaps introduce him to your friends."

"Wouldn't a Slytherin be better," Hermione started, but was cut off before she could finish.

"Even if he is a Slytherin, there is no reason for you to be mistrusting towards him, Ms Granger," McGonagall said. "I realise of course that Potter and Weasley may not be a fan of his loyalties, but I trust you to not be judgemental, Ms Granger."

"Of course not, professor," Hermione answered. She turned to Riddle before she continued, "I have first period free tomorrow, if you want we could meet after breakfast."

"I would very much like that, Ms Granger," Riddle answered. He bowed shortly to her before he left for the Slytherin common room, obviously sensing that McGonagall wanted to talk to Hermione on her own.

"Don't let Potter and especially not Weasley ruin this for you, Hermione," the professor said. "He is a boy of enormous intellect and this is a learning opportunity for both of you. I trust that you will not let yourself be stigmatised by the feud that is between Gryffindor and Slytherin. You're a brave girl, be brave enough to stand up to your friends now." And with that, McGonagall left Hermione standing alone in the Great Hall, not knowing what to say.

Shortly after, Hermione was up in the old common room, looking for Harry and Ron. They were sitting in their old, favourite armchairs by the fireplace, having saved a spot for her.

"What did McGonagall want," Ron asked at once.

"She wanted me to show this new student around," Hermione answered, "she called it a learning opportunity."

"When we were first years, we had to find everything ourselves," Harry said, "that's how we found out about Fluffy, remember."

"I'd rather not," Hermione said with a smile. "And he's not a first year, he's starting his seventh year here. He's probably been home schooled."

"Where is he now then," Ron asked, looking around the common room for him.

"He's not here," Hermione answered. "He's… He's a Slytherin."

Both Harry and Ron stared at her in silence for a couple of second. The part about Tom being a Slytherin was obviously not very popular.

"A Slytherin," Ron managed to muster up after a while. "A bloody Slytherin?"

"Yes, Ron," Hermione said. "No, it doesn't mean he's a Death Eater, or that he will kill me as soon as he gets the chance. He's a very smart boy, and McGonagall personally asked me to guide him and to get to know him."

Harry looked puzzled for a moment. "Maybe it's not bad," he said. "I mean, if he didn't care that you're a Gryffindor, maybe he's not as bad. Maybe he's just very smart and cunning. He doesn't have to hate anyone for that matter."

Ron just stared at Harry. Obviously pissed, he got up and went to the dormitory in a fit of childishness.

"When will he ever grow up," Hermione wondered.

The morning after, however, Ron was completely away from Hermione's mind. She ate her breakfast with Ginny, having finally, if not a little embarrassed confessed to Ginny in kissing her brother.

"You made out with Ron, seriously?"

"Not that brother," Hermione answered in a forced whisper. "And please keep it down, I don't want the whole of Hogwarts to know."

"Well then who," Ginny asked, she looked a bit perplex.

"Fred."

"FRED?"

"Shush!" Hermione looked around her, but no one was paying attention to them. "It was a weak moment, okay. It was just for fun."

"You know that Fred and George have more girls on their records than You-Know-Who has killed, right?" Joking about you-know-who. Only Ginny and the Twins could do that without the whole Great Hall hearing.

"I know," Hermione said. "Everyone knows. It was just for fun. Besides, nothing happened."

"But it could have, if Harry hadn't so gallantly decided to disturb you," Ginny said knowingly. Hermione didn't answer her, just kept eating her breakfast. Not long after however, Ginny's eyes went big, and she looked scared for a moment.

"What," Hermione asked.

"Oh, nothing," Ginny answered, shaking her head. "I just… thought I'd recognised someone."

Hermione turned around and looked, and there he was, Tom Riddle.

"Ginny, this is Tom," Hermione said. "He's the boy I told you about on our way down."

Ginny exchanged pleasantries with Tom, but she didn't look all to reassured. The rest of the Gryffindor table was glaring suspiciously at the Slytherin as well, but Hermione just huffed something about people being immature.

Hermione and Tom decided to start in the dungeons and see the potions class room. There was a class going on right then, but the new professor, Mr Martin, didn't seem to mind them coming inside and checking it out. Professor Martin had transformed the gloomy potions room Snape used to have, into a cosy little cellar with better air and better lighting. Hermione guessed that right now, he was teaching some third years a simple sleeping draught.

They went up to the other floors, chatting happily as they walked through the halls of Hogwarts. Tom was, like Lucas, very easy to talk to, but unlike Lucas, he had a somewhat more reserved manner. Hermione told Tom that there had once been rumoured to be at least seven secret entrances to the school, but that a lot of them had been closed and sealed off in the past ten years.

"It's been nice, Ms Granger," Tom said with a charming smile. "If you have a free period tomorrow after breakfast as well, we could maybe explore the grounds."

"I would like that," Hermione said with a beaming smile. "And, you should call me Hermione."

"Goodbye then, Hermione," he said, and left her to go to the library.

"Goodbye, Tom."


	6. Shared Woe Is Half A Woe

Hermione and Tom spent a lot of time together over the next few days. Either she showed him something new about the castle, or they sat in the library for hours, having whispered conversations about forgotten spells.

A few days into her stay at Hogwarts, she got an owl from her mother with the book she wanted. She wrote a quick thank you note, and used one of the school owls to send it back. Hewig could rest for a while. Then she remembered she had to write Lucas. She didn't exactly want to write him a love letter, so she sought out Ginny for advice on what to do.

"Just write whatever you feel like," Ginny said simply. "The easiest is often the simplest."

"But I don't even know if I like him – like him, or if it was just a summer fling." The two of them sat in the Great Hall. They both had free periods after lunch, so they just sat there chatting. Some other students sat scattered around the tables as well. Hermione noticed that people didn't care so much about house-seating when it wasn't meal time.

"Well, do you like someone else," Ginny asked. "My brother for example?"

"No. I don't. I just… It was fun with Lucas, and I feel like I owe him a letter… He seemed sad that I was going, I was sad that I was going. If I were going anywhere but here, I would have stayed."

"Then write that," Ginny proposed.

Hermione rolled out her parchment and started writing, after a while she had the finished letter in her hand.

_Dear Lucas,_

_I hope you're well. I have had crazy much to do in school the past week, but it has been all fun. I miss spending time with you, and I hope we'll meet soon._

_Hermione_

Ginny read the letter before Hermione could send it. It was all good, there was nothing to bad, or too good in there. It was just a normal letter. Hermione could be sending that letter to her mother and she wouldn't care.

Harry came over to sit down with them, he had just had potions, which was going surprisingly well for him this year. He'd found some sort of old school book, it bugged Hermione to the bones, but she'd been learning quite a bit from Tom in the last few weeks anyway, so she didn't feel like bitching about it to Harry.

"How is it spending time with Tom, by the way," Ginny asked after Hermione had sent the owl to the post office in Hogsmeade.

"It's great. He's really funny, and we can sit and talk for hours. He probably enjoys the library even more than me."

Harry laughed. "That says quite a deal, Hermione," he said. "But I can't help but to feel that I've seen him somewhere before. It feels like he was a friend I've had when I was little, but that I have forgotten about, you know? Of course it's just rubbish, since Dudley made sure I didn't have any friends." His tone became bitter.

"Who are we talking about here then?" Tom came over to them as well, with his charming smile and picture perfect hair.

"Tom! Hi," Hermione smiled at him. "I don't think you and Harry have been introduced yet." The boys shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. "I was just telling Harry and Ginny that I've had quite a lot of fun with you the last few days, Tom."

"Well, thank you, Hermione. I've enjoyed myself as well." Tom smiled at her. "May I join you?"

"Of course," Hermione and Ginny said in unison. They knew perfectly well that half the girls of Hogwarts glared at them with death stares right now. In all the girls bathrooms, there was always talk of that dashing Tom Riddle with his perfect hair, perfect jawline and perfectly charming manners.

"Hermione," he turned to her, "I've been meaning to ask you something. Would you accompany me to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Harry and Ginny stared at them. "Did he just ask her out," Harry asked out of the corner of his mouth. Ginny shushed him, waiting eager to hear Hermione's answer. If she understood at all that she'd been asked out on a date.

A few days later, Hermione stood outside the entrance to the dungeons, waiting for Tom. She had never thought she would ever be this friendly with a Slytherin, but Tom didn't remind her much of a Slytherin. He had the wits, of course, and the half-mean humour, but he never stigmatised her for being muggle born,

Professor McGonagall approached her with one of her rare smiles. "Ms Granger, waiting for someone?"

"Yes, I'm waiting for Tom, actually," she answered with a small smile. "I wanted to thank you for introducing us, he is such a smart guy, I've learned a lot, and we've become great friends."

"More than friends, maybe," professor McGonagall asked.

Hermione blushed deeply, but shook her head. McGonagall left her with a knowing smile, just as Tom walked up the stairs. He was looking dashing in black jeans and an emerald green sweater. Lately, he had opened up a bit more towards her, not being so reserved as he had been before, and Hermione was positively falling heads over heels in love with him. Just like what seemed to be any other girl in school. Not that Hermione _was_ like any other girl in school. He actually talked to her, but was very good at ignoring every other human being who tried to interact with him. Hermione had positively squealed with delight when he had brushed of Draco Malfoy as an annoying little fly who were bothering him.

They walked the grounds of Hogwarts together, Malfoy actually being just a few metres behind them, talking loudly to his protégés.

"Wouldn't believe Tom to get caught up on a mudblood," Malfoy laughed out loud, and Crabbe and Goyle followed his example.

Hermione looked up at Tom, who looked like he was concentrating really hard not to make that vein in his head not explode.

"That ugly mudblood with her frizzy hair and her teeth sticking out like it's nobody's business." More laughter.

It seemed Tom's eyes flashed red and he turned around with a wand drawn so quickly Hermione hadn't even seen it. "Repeat that, Malfoy," Tom snarled dangerously. His face twisted up in anger.

"You think you can take on me, you pissy home schooled boy," Malfoy drawled back. He reached for his wand, but before he could even reach it, Tom had sent a hex in his direction, knocking him into the ground. Tom was about to wave his wand again when Hermione stopped him.

"Tom," Hermione shouted. "He's not worth it. He's been going at it for years."

Draco however, did not like being protected by a mudblood, and fired a spell in Hermione's direction, whom she avoided easily. Draco's aim wasn't the best in the world. But this time Hermione was sure she'd seen Tom's eyes turn red, and the hex that hit Malfoy next, made him fly up in the air, and land about five meters away.

"What in Merlins name is going on here?" Professor Snape and McGonagall approached them in a hasty manner. Snape went to check on Draco, while Hermione was quite sure McGonagall breathed fire.

"He hexed me," cried Malfoy from the ground. Snape made a stretcher from thin air, and Malfoy got in it, rather unwillingly. "That bloody mudbloodlover hexed me."

"That will be enough, Malfoy," Snape snarled at him, obviously unhappy.

"Riddle, explain yourself," said Professor McGonagall, her mouth stretched thin as a twig.

"Well, professor. Hermione and I were walking down the slope, with Malfoy behind us. He made some quite rude comments about Miss Granger's heritage, and I didn't want to hear of it."

"Ms Granger, you did nothing to stop this?" McGonagall looked at Hermione now.

"Professor, I've been putting up with Malfoy's load of bull since our first year. I guess I've had enough." Okay, so she lied to the professor she trusted the most in all of Hogwarts, but she didn't want Tom to go down alone. She did have a sneaky suspicion that Snape was breaking into her head though, but she honestly didn't care. She knew he'd be happy to punish her for something she hadn't done, so why should she care?

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said. "While it all was very _noble_ of you, Mr Riddle, this is not acceptable student behaviour." She caught Malfoys smirk. "Neither of your behaviour, Mr Malfoy. You will all three be grounded. Next time, Riddle, you will come to me or professor Snape if you have any problems with any of the other students."

"Yes, professor," Tom said, bowing his head in shame.

"Now, why don't you two continue on your way? You will meet tomorrow at seven in my office for your detention."

Hermione turned to Riddle after the professors and Malfoy had cleared the area. She couldn't believe McGonagall had let them go to Hogsmeade anyway. Tom had a peculiar look upon his face, could it be amusement?

"Do you really think this is funny," Hermione asked as they continued towards Hogsmeade.

"No," he answered. "But you protected me, I never thought you would do such a thing."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. We haven't known each other for so long, and you always do your best in school. I was under the impression that you liked to stay out of trouble."

"I am. But shared joy is double joy, and a shared woe is half a woe." Hermione smiled at him. They were walking on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, looking for someplace that wasn't cramped with Hogwarts students. Hermione was of no doubt that Crabbe and Goyle had shared the story with every Slytherin that had ever gone to Hogwarts. Draco's father would undoubtfully hear of this.

They found a very small café on the outskirts of the town, not far away from the Shrieking Shack, and sat down there. They ordered some tea, and were left to an awkward silence. The small café was as good as empty. There was a set of seven years sitting in the back, but they paid little attention to the odd couple by the window.

Hermione didn't want to mention the flash of red she'd seen in Tom's eyes. It scared her a bit, actually, but she couldn't help but to stay by him. Even if he'd never been anything but perfectly polite to her, she appreciated his general bad boy attitude. He wasn't like Malfoy and his spoiled-brat-bad-boy-attitude, but there was some sort of _danger_ lying over Tom Riddle. And Hermione was intrigued, the most dangerous thing she'd ever done willingly, was probably Lucas.

The day was spent chatting away about some new paper in Transfiguration Today and wondering what their task for tomorrow was, and when it was finally time to get back to Hogwarts, the darkness had surrounded them.

Hermione realised later when she was in bed, that she was falling in love with Tom Riddle, the mystery man that had come in to her life and swept her of her feet.


	7. Detention

**A/N**: Hello, lovlies! I hope you're all psyked about AVP3D today! I know I am! Anyway, this isn't a very long chapter, so I just wanted to pop by and say hello. And that I am so grateful for all of you who read this, and who review it! I'm so happy! If you're interested, I've started a Drarry fic as well if you want something to pass the time with. Xoxo

* * *

Hermione definitely had the idea that McGonagall was being nice to her and Tom for their detention. They had been sent to the library after hours, to clear out a couple of isles in a locked part of the library. Draco on the other hand, was sent to the trophy room to shine the plaques, no magic.

Tom used a simple dusting spell to remove the dust from the top of the shelves and the floor at least, and went to the nearest shelf to check.

"This is really ancient," he told Hermione who was currently checking out some other shelf. They were to repair any broken books, dust of them all, and sort them in to relevant and non-relevant information. They weren't to do the whole job of course, that would probably take days, but they were to start, and go on as long as McGonagall saw it fit.

They actually quite enjoyed themselves, and Hermione seriously considered volunteering to get done with this no matter how far they came that night. They worked for a good three hours, before Hermione was so tired she could barely stand up straight. It seemed professor McGonagall had forgotten about them, so she just laid down on the floor, staring on to the roof. Tom came down and laid next to her, their hands barely touching.

"I really like you, you know," Hermione muttered and turned her head towards him. She looked in to those grey eyes she knew would flash red if he was angered.

"I know," he answered simply. Hermione laughed. It was such a Tom way to answer something like that. She knew of course, that he wasn't really in touch with his feelings, and it could have something to do with him not being around a lot of girls before, seeing as he was home schooled, but she wanted him to be. She wanted him to be in touch with her. She wanted him.

"Why are you laughing," he asked, rather bewildered.

"Because, for being so smart, you really are stupid," Hermione answered. She sat up and looked down at him. He had his arm under his head, so his shirt was stretched up. She could see the outlines of his hip bone, and a small part of the dark hair that snuck in to his pants. Merlin, almighty, she wanted him.

"Why?"

"When a girl tells you she likes you, you don't answer with that," she said. In another of those bold moments she'd been having lately, she crawled on top of him, and sat down on his hips. He looked rather surprised, but she didn't care.

"What do I answer, then," he asked curiously. It was all too clear he had little to no experience with this, what so ever. Either he'd probably fucked a lot of girls without caring for them, or he'd never actually been with a girl.

"You could say that you like the girl too."

Tom sat up swiftly, so Hermione almost fell backwards, but he caught her back right before. Their faces were nearly touching, he was so near her, and he smelled so good. "I like you too, Hermione," he said seriously, and then he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Tom kissed her again, deeper this time, hungrier. She put her arms around his neck and let her fingers run through his hair. She could feel his dick rising to the occasion against her pussy. She wanted him so bad.

His tie disappeared, and soon Hermione was working on opening the buttons of his shirt, when he suddenly pulled away from her. He pushed her off him, and disappeared out the door before Hermione could even ask what was wrong.

After a few moments of confused sexual frustration, she got up from the floor again. She collected the books, and was headed for the door when McGonagall walked in on her.

"Have you been able to do much," she asked as she gazed over the area. Hermione noticed Tom's tie still lying on the floor right next to where they had been sitting.

"Oh, yes, professor," Hermione answered. "There was a lot of mouse bit on some of the lower shelves, but we fixed what we could. We dusted off before we started too."

"Good. Now, Granger, get some sleep. You look absolutely exhausted." Hermione turned for the door, but was stopped by the professor's hand on her shoulder. "You should give Riddle his tie back too."

Blushing deeply, Hermione turned at picked up the tie, before leaving the professor alone in the room.

The hallways were empty, Hermione was half-hoping to run in to Tom somewhere to get an explanation for his odd behaviour, but she saw no one, not even a ghost. Seeing as she didn't want to go back to the dormitories yet, she found an empty classroom to sit down in for a while. She didn't understand why Riddle suddenly had left her there, all alone, without even a word. He'd always been a gentleman to her, always saying good morning and good night.

She brought his tie up to her nose and gently smelt it. Its scent was all his. That sweetish scent she'd experiences less than half an hour earlier. Riddle was really a dream boy, but she wasn't sure what he wanted with her. She was of course worried, both Ginny and Harry had recognised _something_ about him, but neither could point their fingers at it. Then there was the flash of red in his eyes, it was disturbing Hermione quite a bit, but he'd never mentioned it, and she would certainly not. At least not for now.

About a week later, Hermione was only picking at her porridge. The roof of the Great Hall resembled her mood perfectly, cloudy, rainy and depressing. Riddle had been avoiding her since the night in the library, and Hermione had buried herself in work.

"Hermione, you've got to eat," Ginny said.

"Leave it, Ginny," Ron said. "She got what was coming for her."

Hermione didn't even bother to answer something snarky. Ron could just go on being an arse for her, it wasn't her problem anymore. She'd been drifting too much away from him, to know if they could ever be proper friends again. Harry and Ginny on the other hand, she was getting even closer to. Hermione could stay up with them for hours after everybody had gone to bed, just talking about the heavens and the earths.

A couple of nights ago they had discussed Voldemort. No one had heard from him at all since his resurrection. There was no sign of him anywhere, and Harry had even asked Dumbledore, but he neither had a clue. There was something going on, a plan, but they just couldn't understand what it was. It had been creepy during their fifth year when he was gone, but now it was just odd. Over a year and a no-show? There was definitively something going on, but they didn't know what.

"Hermione." Riddle stood in front of the Gryffindor table. Ron's jaw dropped, obviously believing Riddle would never talk to Hermione again.

"Riddle," Hermione said stiffly.

"I thought we were past using surnames for each other."

"Well, so did I," she answered coolly. "What do you want, _Riddle_."

"I would like to talk." He ignored her friend's collective death stare. "Also, I would quite like my tie back."

Hermione ripped his tie out of her bag and handed it to him. "Leave, Riddle," she demanded.

"What is the matter with you? You're acting like a silly school girl," he snarled dangerously. "Or did your little friends get to you about me being just another bad Slytherin?"

"Well, maybe that's all you are," Harry said, defending Hermione. "Sod off, Riddle."

Without a second glance at the Gryffindors, Riddle turned on his heel and walked away from them. Hermione followed him with her eyes as he walked out of the Great Hall.

"Hermione, you're better off without –" Harry started.

"Don't." Hermione got up from her seat, collected her things, and headed for potions. At least there, Harry and Ron couldn't try to talk her out of it. Professor Martin was a giant pain-in-the-ass about _only_ talking about the subject they were working on.

Polyjuice Potion was today's lesson, and Hermione was quite happy about it. She'd managed to brew a perfectly good one already in their second year, so she was quite happy to answer all the questions Professor Martin came up with. Everything from how long they worked, to exactly _when_ the lacewing flies were to be added. Harry and Ron probably knew the answers to, but even Ron had the decency to shut up about it, and let Hermione be her own self for a while. It was funny, it was only in classes Hermione could be her own self these days. Riddle had meddled with her being able to act normal in any kind of situation. She'd never been so hopelessly in love that she didn't want to eat, or didn't want to sleep, and certainly, she'd never been having this many sexual dreams in her whole life. Riddle's scent followed her in her sleep, and she had no idea how it could be. She had kept his tie in her bag since that first night, but she suspected she remembered the smell so perfectly well from that night in the library that she couldn't forget it. She was indeed, very much in love with him.


	8. The Lost Friend

November had come with a lot of snow, and Hermione was feeling more like herself again. There was a month since Riddle had approached her at the Gryffindor table, and after that, she'd been avoiding him, and he'd been avoiding her. Ron seemed happier too, probably because after Gryffindor had kicked Slytherin's ass in the first Quidditch match of the year, Ginny and Hermione had caught him snogging Lavender Brown. And beating Slytherin at Quidditch was just one of the small victories Hermione had over Riddle. However, he'd appeared to be gone from school all in all the last week. She hadn't asked anyone, out of fear that someone would think that she still cared about her, but still. It annoyed her.

It was a couple of hours after dinner when Hermione was sitting in the library, fuming over Snape's newest paper on inferius. She had postponed it for a while, and now it was due in just a couple of days, and she did not like to do things the day before they were due. It was both dark and cold in the library, but she refused to go to the Gryffindor tower, because she wouldn't get any work done there anyway.

When she was nearly done with the essay, she heard a familiar voice say her name. She turned around quickly, and saw Riddle standing next to her, a shy smile on his face.

"What do you want, Riddle," Hermione asked annoyed. She'd spilled ink on her paper, and was now waving her wand to make it go away.

"I want us to talk again," he answered truthfully.

"Then talk," she said as she rolled up the parchment at stuck it in her bag. "You can start by explaining why you ran off so sudden. Or why you've been avoiding me the past month. Or why you were such a jerk when you came over a while ago. Any of those would do."

He looked annoyed, and Hermione couldn't blame him, but so was she. She was not the one who had run away, or called her a silly school girl for that matter. She'd been starting to write Lucas again, and was perfectly contempt with that if Riddle wanted to get lost.

"I don't know how to behave around women I like," he said plainly.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Hermione said in a snarky tone. "Anything else?" She got up and prepared herself to leave, when he took her shoulders and pushed her violently into the nearest bookshelf and planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

"Sorry," he whispered before he kissed her again.

Hermione tried to get loose, but soon gave up the struggle. First of all, he was much stronger than her, and second, she didn't really want to break loose. Tom pressed his body up against hers, and she could feel his dick pressing against her thighs.

"Let's leave," Hermione said as Tom let go of her to breathe for a bit.

"Where?"

"The Room of Requirement."

Hand in hand they snuck up to the seventh floor, and walked quickly up and down the corridor until the door popped up. It was a very simple room which had been conjured, but they didn't need more.

Hermione walked in, closely followed by Riddle who kicked the door shut with his foot. He grabbed her from behind, and kissed her neck tenderly. It didn't take long before Tom had Hermione lying flat on the bed, with him on top of her. They were still kissing passionately, Hermione were struggling to get his damn buttons to open, and he was expertly removing her blouse and bra. Tom let his mouth travel downwards, and was soon partially licking, partially kissing his way down past her nipples and down around her belly button. He slowly pulled her skirt and panties off, and it was absolutely breath taking when his tongue touched her wet pussy. Hermione moaned with pleasure, and was quite sure she had died and come to heaven. It was like there was a fire burning through her body, which was building up stronger and stronger. She cried out in delight as she finally felt her orgasm let loose inside her. Tom quickly removed the rest of his clothes and laid down on top of her again.

"You're amazing," Hermione panted, still a bit shaky. Tom just sent her one of those charming smiles before he kissed her again. Hermione could taste herself on his lips, which made her all worked up again.

"Fuck me," she demanded, and he wasn't slow in his movements after that. He took a hold of his cock, his gloriously big cock, and pushed inside her in one swift motion. He held still for a bit to let her adjust, before he slowly started thrusting into her. Hermione moaned with every movement he had, and pushed her hips up at him. Tom's face was screwed up with pleasure, and he started moving both faster and harder, Hermione was close to her second release when he suddenly pulled out and turned her over. When he pushed into her from behind, he hit a spot that obviously was only reachable from one certain angle, and Hermione cried out with joy. She positioned herself on her elbow, and the used her other hand to rub her clitoris while he was still fucking her gloriously hard. It didn't take long for Hermione's body to tense up, and she tightened herself around him when she had her second release of the day. He was obviously close to, he moaned louder for every thrust into her petite body, and when she felt his dick swell up. He bit down hard on her shoulder to supress a loud cry as he came inside her.

Tom collapsed down on her, and rolled around on his back. "That," he panted, "was bloody amazing."

Hermione didn't answer, she hadn't quite caught her breath yet, but she had to agree, that _was_ indeed bloody amazing. The bed they were lying on was so comfortable; Hermione didn't feel like ever getting up from it, luckily, Riddle didn't feel like getting up either. They stayed together in bed through the night, talking, having a good fuck a couple of times, and finally falling asleep in each other's arms.

The morning after, Hermione woke up to Riddle making an awful lot of noise while getting dressed.

"What time is it," Hermione asked sleepily.

"Half past ten," he answered while straightening his tie. He really was rather handsome.

"Bloody fuck, I missed potions," Hermione moaned. She got out of the bed, if not, rather unwillingly. She had to go soon, or she would miss the first five minutes of transfiguration as well, and McGonagall was not happy when someone was late to her classes. She cleaned herself with a quick spell, and got dressed in a hurry. "I guess we'll see each other around then."

"I guess we will," he smiled.

After a quick kiss, Hermione left the Come and Go Room, and ran down the stairs towards transfiguration. She positively beamed when she walked in to the classroom and noticed the professor weren't there yet.

"Where were you last night," Harry asked her as she sat down next to him and Ron.

"I… fell asleep in the library," Hermione lied. Lying to her friends weren't something she liked doing, but she didn't exactly want to confess to the boys that she'd been fucked senseless several times during the night.

"Professor Martin weren't glad that you missed potions," Ron said, he looked sour again, Hermione noticed. She didn't even bother to wonder why.

Professor McGonagall walked in to the room, and with a wave of her wand she had handed out last week's essays. Hermione noticed she'd gotten an S, she tried to sneak a peek at what the boys had gotten, but both of them just tugged the parchment down in their bags. Hermione wasn't particularly curious about things like that, but he boys had been very secretive about their grades lately. Not that it mattered, Hermione simply didn't care.

The lesson was long and boring, and Hermione found herself dreaming about last night, replaying it in her mind again and again. At the end of the lesson, however, McGonagall held the trio back. She looked stern, and somewhat worried. Hermione was just about to ask what was going on, when Professor Dumbledore walked through the door of the classroom. This could not be good, not at all. Hermione didn't remember there being any rule of not being allowed to have sexual relation above the age of sixteen, so it probably wasn't that. But then what?

Dumbledore looked just as worried as McGonagall though, and Hermione felt the hair on her arms rise.

"There has been a murder," Dumbledore said after a pressing silence. He sounded sad. Hermione's head started spinning, was it her parents? Oh dear lord, what if it was any of the Weasley's? Ron and Harry were obviously worried about the same, but Dumbledore calmed them with a look.

"It was a muggle boy, but the Dark Mark was found above his flat."

Hermione wasn't even realising she'd been holding her breath, until she let all the air of her body out. Her parents were safe. The order was probably keeping an extra eye on them anyway.

"Professor, did you say the Dark Mark," Harry asked. Hermione looked up at Dumbledore. The Dark Mark. Voldemort.

"Yes," he answered sombrely. "And we have reason to believe that it was Voldemort himself that killed the poor boy. Now, I wouldn't have told you this if it wasn't for this one thing that disturbs me quite a bit." He looked at them all three over the edges of his half-moon glasses. "The boy who was killed lives in Ottery St. Catchpole."

Hermione fell down to her seat again, her whole body was trembling. Harry, seeing Hermione's reaction, asked the Professor what the boy's name was.

"Lucas, Lucas Roberts."

Hermione was positively devastated. How on earth could the Dark Lord even know who Lucas was? She had only told the Weasleys, and unless one of them had told someone else, they were the only one that knew. Tears were streaming down her face, sweet, caring, Lucas whom she had connected so well with.

"Do you know this boy, Hermione," professor McGonagall asked her. Hermione just nodded, she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"They met over the summer," Harry explained. "They've been sharing quite a few owls over the school year too."

Abruptly, Hermione got up from her chair; she couldn't stay in that room a minute longer. She needed to get out of there, now. Harry and Ron could plot with Dumbledore, Hermione simply didn't care anymore. Lucas had been such a … he was the boy next door, how could anyone want to harm him, how could he have angered anyone, let alone Death Eaters. She didn't understand it.

Peace and quiet was just what she needed, so she ran up to the library and locked herself in the room she'd been working in the past few weeks. She curled up on the floor, lost in her own thoughts, so she didn't notice that Harry had walked in at first.

"Hermione," he said gently, laying an arm on her shoulder. "The Weasley's are safe, we don't believe the mu-death had anything to do with them being where they were." Hermione just nodded. "Your parents are safe too, Kingsley is currently watching them, but they will probably have to go out of country for a while. They'd mentioned Australia." Hermione nodded again. "Talk to me, Hermione."

Trying to catch her breath, she sat up and looked at Harry. "How can Dumbledore be sure that Voldemort did it?"

Harry took her hand in his. "Dumbledore himself went there, there were traces of Voldemort's wand and magic on the – on him," Harry finished. "Hermione, who did you tell about Lucas?"

"No one, no one but you guys," she answered. "The Weasley's, Fleur probably heard, but I hardly believe her to be a Death Eater."

Harry looked thoughtful for a while; Hermione thought that if he continued like this, he would have wrinkles before he turned twenty. Then she remembered something, one other she had told.

"Harry," she said slowly. "I told him, I told Riddle."


	9. The Dark Side

It had been one of their first days together, when Hermione had told Tom about those amazing couple of days of summer. That was before she had fallen head over heels in love with Tom of course, so she'd told him about their first meeting, how he'd blown her of her feet and so on. But she just couldn't believe that Tom had talked to the Dark Lord. It just didn't make any sense at all. Tom had never broken her trust before, not even when they weren't talking.

It was night time, and Hermione could yet again not get to sleep. She'd fished out the latest letter from Lucas, and read it again and again. It had arrived only a couple of days before she'd heard the news about his death.

_Hermione,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written to you in so long. I've been very busy, my cousin is getting married and I'm literally jumping through hoops for her. It will be a beautiful wedding though (mainly because I've set it all up)._

_I read that book you recommended me by the way. You were right, it was seriously thick as a brick, but what can you do. I really enjoy reading fantasy; imagine if there actually was magic and dragons around us! What a wonderful world it would be, to just fix anything with a snap of your fingers, or a knick of your wand._

_Your new friend is seriously pissing me off, who would ever be rude to you? And then stop talking to you at all for that matter. Maybe you should just move on. I hope I will see you over Christmas by the way. It's not far away, and I've bought you a gift._

_I never thought I would miss someone I've only known for a couple of days, you truly are a remarkable girl, Hermione._

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Love,_

_Lucas._

A week had passed, and it was still so very unbelievable that Lucas was gone. They hadn't found out who had told anyone yet. Everyone was suspecting Tom of course, but Hermione just refused to believe it. Tom was a good man.

Another fourteen days passed without any new signs of the Dark Lord, so their lives slowly settled back into the same old. Hermione and Tom had not repeated the night in the Come and Go Room, because Hermione simply was too crushed by Lucas's death. They were meeting tonight though, to write an essay for Snape together. Even if they didn't take the same classes, they often did their homework together, and they seemed to get much of the same tasks in the two different years.

They had been sitting together for quite some time, when Hermione finally plucked up the courage to ask him what she'd dreaded for the past few weeks.

"Tom, did you tell anyone about Lucas," she asked calmly, but her every sense was on alert.

"Who," Tom asked, looking confused. Hermione exhaled loudly. Riddle knew a friend of her had died, but not his name.

"My friend that died, it was the boy I met in the summer," she said.

"No. Who would I tell anyway? I don't get along with other people very much," Riddle looked curious.

"No one," she blew it off, "I just wondered if you'd let a name slip in the common room or something along those lines."

"Hermione, don't you trust me," he asked, suddenly his voice was sharp.

"Well, yes, of course," Hermione stuttered out.

"Then I would appreciate it if you didn't ask me such nonsense anymore." He squeezed her hand pretty hard, like a warning, Hermione thought.

"Of course, I'm sorry," she muttered and turned back to her essay.

It was dark both outside and in the library when she finished up her paper. Tom was still working, she was studying his features, and he looked so positively dashing in the weak candle light, that Hermione didn't know what to do with herself. Being told off earlier for asking too many questions, she didn't want to disturb him again, so she simply picked up a book from her bag and started reading. She couldn't quite concentrate though; she kept glancing over at Tom the whole time. She started noticing those little things about him, which she'd seen before, but never really appreciated. The sheen in his black hair when the light hit him just right, the flaring of his nostrils while he inhaled, his perfectly shaped lip, and how it creased so beautifully under his cupids bow, and how the colour of his lips were soft pink. She saw how his full, dark eyelashes threw long shadows down his cheeks when he blinked.

He looked up at her, and she smiled weakly at him. "Want to get out of here," Tom asked her, giving her his most charming smile.

Actually, Hermione didn't have time for that. Dumbledore had put her on a mission in the library, to find out as much about Voldemort's past that she could. Meanwhile, Dumbledore himself was travelling around, digging around in old known acquaintances from Voldemort's time as a youngster, to try to find, well, anything. It wasn't easy though, Voldemort, or Marvolo Gaunt as he had once been called, had done his absolute best to remove every trace of memory from anyone he had ever known. Dumbledore thought that was because he didn't like who he used to be, that young half-blood he had once been, just as weak as every other first year. Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't think so though, after everything that had happened, it was just like Voldemort was trying to erase himself from the face of the earth.

"You look thoughtful," Tom noted.

"Oh, it's nothing," she answered. "Sure, we can go." There was no harm in waiting with Voldemort until tomorrow, was there? Surely, he wouldn't go anywhere in the few hours from now until lunch tomorrow. She was determined to find him, but not now. Now she wanted to be with Riddle for a couple of hours. They'd been apart for so long, she needed him. She needed his touch and his soft and gentle words.

The two of them walked together up to the Room of Requirement, but Riddle was obviously not in the mood to do anything other than talk. Not that it annoyed Hermione; she just really could not understand him.

"What are you doing with Potter and the redheads all the time," Tom asked suddenly. He was standing by the window overlooking the lake.

"Nothing in particular," Hermione lied. The four of them were the only one who knew about digging in to Voldemort's past, and Dumbledore had made them swear not to tell anyone, not even the other Weasley's, or anyone in the order for that matter.

"Don't lie to me," he said, punctuating every word.

"I'm not," Hermione exclaimed. "We're just hanging out; we've been friends since our first year." She tried to walk closer to him, but he just pushed her away as he walked to the other side of the room.

"I don't like it when people lie to me," Riddle said dangerously.

"I'm not," Hermione huffed. "Stop being such a drama queen, the world doesn't evolve around you." Too late did she realise that she'd said something incredibly stupid. Riddle's eyes flashed red as he strode toward her. He took a tight grip around her overarm and pushed her hard in to the wall.

"You better learn some respect," he hissed at her. Hermione stared scared in to his face; his features had become somewhat demonic. Who was this man?

"Sorry," she gasped.

With a quick movement he threw her violently towards the stone floor. Hermione had the air knocked right out of her, and gasping for breath, she saw him walk toward the window again. He looked solemn even worried.

He didn't ask more about what Hermione was doing with her friends, instead he just watched her as she slowly got up and climbed on to the bed. She sat there, rubbing her ribs, worried that maybe one of them was fractured, in any case, it hurt like hell.

That was the moment she realised that maybe she should run away. Never talk to Riddle again, and just throw herself into both schoolwork and the digging through Voldemort's past. But looking at Riddle, she knew she could never do that, she couldn't run away from him. She was already in too deep.

Riddle threw her a dark look, before he walked up to her and kissed her. It wasn't a good kiss, it was the sort of angry kiss you'd expect from someone who has been let down a thousand times, and a thousand times again. She tried to pull away from him, not really in the mood to do anything anymore, but for him, it was a feeble attempt. He pushed her down on the bed, and held her still with one arm as he undressed her with the other.

It wasn't right, not like this, Hermione thought, but her body betrayed her. Still, in her head she didn't want to, she tried to wriggle away from him, but Tom held her down.

"You've been bad, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "You need to be punished." He kissed her again, their teeth clinking together, and Hermione didn't really know what to do. She wanted him so bad, but she knew this was wrong. To hell with it, she thought as she answered the kiss. She felt like her body was on fire, she needed him inside her, now.

Standing up for a minute, his clothes disappeared at a remarkable speed, before he laid on top of her again. He was being so very rough with his touches, and he bit her quite hard several times. When he thrust his cock into her in one fast motion, she whimpered in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He proceeded to fuck her fast and hard, not caring for anyone's pleasure but his own, but Hermione managed to reach climax on her own.

When he pulled out of her at last, she couldn't help but smile a little. Maybe she did deserve the rough treatment after all. She watched as Riddle got up and put his clothes on, before he left the room without saying as much as a word to her. Hermione's smile quickly disappeared, she felt dirty.


	10. The Mission

The morning after, was both good and bad. On the bright side, she didn't have to see Riddle at all that day, seeing as Dumbledore had called the trio and Ginny up to his office right after breakfast. The bad side, was that she was covered in bruises and bite marks, and she doubted she could hide the stiffness of her limbs from her friends. She could barely move without her muscles tensing up, and shooting pain around her body.

Breakfast was consumed in silence, Hermione glancing over at the Slytherin table from time to another, but Riddle didn't seem to be there. Maybe that was just as good, when she thought about it, him being there would maybe not be the best, since Harry kept glancing at her neck from time to another.

When it was time to go up to Dumbledore, Harry held Hermione back a little, using the excuse of asking about something in a book of his.

"Hermione," Harry said when Ron and Ginny were out of earshot. "You're bruised badly, and you're so stiff you can barely walk." Harry was worried, Hermione liked that he cared, but not that he was putting his nose right in other people's business. Not that it wasn't Harry's speciality to do just that though.

"I'm fine, Harry," Hermione said. "Really, Harry. It's nothing." They'd reached the gargoyle stone figure in front of the professor's office, and not long after, they were knocking the professor's door.

Hermione had never been in the Dumbledore's office before, and was positively baffled at how beautiful the room was. It was filled to the brim with knickknacks and his bookshelves were overflowing with books and rolls of parchment. Hermione could really move in there. She wanted to know what every piece of equipment was for, and how to use them.

Dumbledore obviously sensed her enthusiasm. "There is a time and place for everything, Ms Granger," he said with a light chuckle. "But this is neither." He sat down behind his desk, and gesticulated for them to sit down in four comfortable arm chairs in the front. "This is the time to discuss Lord Voldemort, or Marvolo Gaunt if you like."

Ginny shuddered, and Hermione could only feel with her. Ever since Ginny had been down in the Chamber, the name Marvolo Gaunt had hunted her nightmares. She didn't know then, that she was indeed talking to Lord Voldemort, and Hermione could hardly blame her for being afraid at the mention of his name.

"Now, Harry, I am under the impression that you don't remember how Gaunt's face looked like when you were in the chamber," Dumbledore asked Harry, who nodded. "What about you, Ms Weasley?"

Ginny looked bewildered. "I don't know, sir," she answered. "It's like I want to remember, but the more I try, the more I forget."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful; he got up from his chair and walked over to one of his bookshelves. "That is the exact answer I have gotten from so many of the people I have asked," Dumbledore said after a while. He was looking for a book, and it seemed he found it. "I can't find any memories or any written records about him when he was at Hogwarts."

"But why is that important, professor," Harry asked.

"Because," Dumbledore answered, browsing through the book he had found. "I believe Voldemort have never told any of us the truth about his old life. What I do know is this. When Gaunt was about sixteen or so, he went to the old Gaunt house where he came from, and killed the remains of his family on the mother side." Dumbledore sat down in front of them again. "It was Voldemort's uncle and grandfather; they probably couldn't tell him anything about his father, so he figured he might as well kill them."

"Who is Voldemort's father, anyway," Hermione asked. "If his last name if from the mother's side then it might as well be impossible to find him, if he goes by his father's last name now."

"No one knows," Dumbledore said. "The only one who might know is Voldemort himself, but I don't think he would share that information to anybody. You see, there are reasons to believe that Voldemort's father was a muggle."

Hermione could feel her jaw drop; she looked at the others as well. Ginny looked wildly uncomfortable, Harry looked aghast, and Ron just looked bored. Didn't he understand the importance of this meeting, this information? He was such a silly school boy; he probably wanted to be with Lavender now, instead of trying to defeat the darkest wizard of all times.

"But professor," Harry said. "Why would he target only muggleborn and muggles then? If he is half-blood himself."

"I believe he is ashamed, because his father never was there for him, so he's decided to target all muggles as a replacement for the father he never had. Of course, he is also very much intrigued by the house he was staying at when he was at Hogwarts, Slytherin of course. And seeing as he is the Heir of Slytherin, he might as well have had these thoughts even if his father had been there for him. Voldemort is a mystery, which I believe will be very hard to unravel." He paused for a few seconds, cleaning of his glasses on his robe (which today was a brilliant shade of magenta). "We need to figure this out; unfortunately I'm travelling a lot for the order, and for this very purpose, so I don't have time for what I'm asking you to do. Hermione, will you and Ms Weasley here find time to look for anything that can be related to the names Gaunt? It's his mother's site, and if we find her, maybe we can find something on Voldemort's father too."

Hermione and Ginny nodded.

"Good, Harry and Ron, you two will help out the girls," he said. "But try to keep guard for them. No one of you is of any help if you get cursed, which I believe might happen if Ms Weasley and Ms Granger find what I'm hoping they will find. As Moody would have said; constant vigilance!" He winked at them. "Try to keep your ears out as well, both the long and the short ones, maybe some of the students might know anything."

They were getting ready to leave the office, when he spoke again. "If I don't see you before the Holidays, have a happy Christmas."

The past few days, Hermione had completely forgotten that Christmas was just around the corner. She was wondering if she would go back to the Weasley's with Ron and Harry, or if she should go see her parents. However, if Dumbledore was right (and he usually was) they were currently in Australia. Maybe she just would have to stay at school then.

Oh, well, she would have to push those problems away for a couple of more days, now the four of them were headed for the library. Not too much time had passed since breakfast, so there were very few students up there. They dragged out all the books they could find on wizard ancestry, and headed for the room Hermione had worked in with Tom. Harry even called for Kreatcher to bring him the book that was left at Grimmauld's Place _The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black._

Ron was obviously bored, and were shooting bubbles out of his wand instead of actually doing anything that made sense, but the rest of them were working with what Dumbledore had assigned them.

"Where are you going for Christmas, Hermione," Ginny asked after an hour or so of working.

"I don't know really," she answered. "According to Dumbledore, my parents are currently in Australia, so I have no idea."

"Mom has already invited you," Ron suddenly said. "I forgot to tell you, she wrote a few weeks back actually."

"Great," Hermione smiled. Even though she didn't exactly look forward to spending the holidays with Ron, it would be fun to meet the rest of the Weasleys. She wondered how Fred would act around her though. She knew she couldn't actually do anything with him, Tom would be furious if he found out, but it was kind of a thrill too, sneaking around like that.

Not long after, they went down for lunch together. Hermione still couldn't see Tom anywhere, which probably was just as well, seeing as she was spending time with her friends, Merlin forbid.

After lunch they were back in the library, reading up on the blood lines.

"Harry, did you know you were related to Sirius," Ginny asked after a while. "Through some great-great aunt or something, but you're a descendant of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." Ginny laughed.

"No wonder Kreacher actually have to listen to me then," Harry muttered sourly. He didn't know much about the Black family, except that they were extremely caught up on the pure blood line, excluding the ones that had been burned away of course.

"Don't be a sour puss, Harry," Ron said, "We're related to them too. Mind you, the one who married our blood traitor grand-grand-something-father are burned out as well."

Hermione had never really cared that she wasn't a part of a magical line, but this was indeed very interesting. Harry, Ron and Ginny could all track their magical powers back at least five generations, and Hermione was the first who had ever been a witch in her family. She had checked several times over the years, sitting at libraries and digging through her family records, and the magical lines through history.

They sat in the library for the rest of the day, Harry called on Kreacher and Dobby to get them something to eat, and some butterbeer, so it all turned out to be quite fun after a while. Even Ron had started to actually work, even if he was still more interested in talking than actually reading. It was over eleven at night when the Madame Pince came and chased them out.

They spent the next few days the same way, looking, fuming, studying every dying part of the lines, but they found nothing. Every trace of the Gaunt family since the beginning of the nineteenth century seemed to have vanished though, but Dumbledore knew of course that since Voldemort had been born a Gaunt, there would have to be someone, somewhere that had married that last link, they just needed to find it.

The rest of the research had to wait until after the Holidays though. Hermione asked Madam Pince to have the books locked up that room, and to not let anyone borrow them. Madam Pince agreed reluctantly, but eventually she caved in when Hermione said that they were working for Dumbledore.

Hermione hadn't met Tom since the night he'd thrown her on to the stone floor, but right now she was looking for him. The packing she'd completed earlier that day, and she wanted to say goodbye to him before she left for the Burrow the next morning. She had already checked the library and all the reading rooms, so she was heading down to the basement when she was stopped by an all too familiar face.

* * *

**A/N:** I know there are some continuty errors here, but I didn't know how to change it without fucking up my storyline completely. Yeah, so I'm sorry about that.

Another thing, I have some extra-material of sorts for this fic, and I wondered if you lot were interested in reading it? The material is my thoughts-when-writing (like how I had to switch to write fluff on another piece I'm working on because it was too depressing), and some other stuff I might publish if I'm bored enough.

Thank you so much for your reviews by the way! I really appreaciate everything you leave me!

Lots of Love

LiKv


	11. The New Ally

**A/N:** Hey lovlies! Sorry for my slow update, but I've been for a short vaccation to Oslo and blablabla. Anyway, I got this really amazing and uplifting review from an anon chosing to call herself Aurora. I wanted to thank you for being so supportive and amazing!

Love!

* * *

"What do you want, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. Draco Malfoy had dragged her in to an empty classroom, obviously having waited for her. Was she really that predictable? Not that it mattered right now anyway.

"Calm down, Granger," Malfoy drawled when he saw Hermione reach for her wand. "I'm not going to hex you, so just put that down."

Malfoy hadn't drawn his wand at all; he was just standing by the door in case she tried to make a run for it. Hermione didn't even bother, if Draco hurt her… Well, she'd punched him in the face before, hopefully he remembered.

"I have two questions," Draco said simply. "And even though I know you don't like me, nor do I like you particularly much for that matter, I want you to answer honestly.

Hermione snorted. "Why should I tell you anything, Malfoy?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Doubtful that he would actually come up with something good anyway, she pretended to look a tad bit curious.

"What are you doing with Riddle," he asked first. Confident that she wouldn't run away, he sat down on one of the desks that stood in the small classroom.

"I don't see how that is any of your business, Malfoy," Hermione said grumpily.

"Do you really know him?"

"Better than you, anyway," Hermione snapped at him.

"You think so? You don't see him when he is under the impression that he is alone." Draco sent her a dark look. Hermione knew of course, perfectly well what could hide under Tom's charming outer self, but she failed to mention it.

"I appreciate your concern, Malfoy," she said. "But if you're done, I would rather like to go." She started to walk towards the door, but Malfoy locked it with a quick spell.

"I'm not done," he said. "What are you, Potter and the redheads doing in the library all the time?"

Hermione was perplexed for a moment. Malfoy was obviously more connected than she'd anticipated. "We're researching," she answered after a while.

"What," he demanded.

"I believe that's another thing that really is none of your business."

"I can help," he said.

A laugher escaped Hermione's lips. "You want to _help_ us? By Merlin, I think someone has used polyjuice potion, because it sure as hell isn't Draco Malfoy standing in front of me."

"Oh, you're funny. Tell me what you're doing. I can help," Draco said, leaning closer to her. "I know you're working against the Dark Lord, but I need to know what you are doing. I have seen what he can do; I know what he's capable off." Draco sounded scared, Hermione thought, but she was terrified herself, that this was all just an act.

"You need to talk to Dumbledore," Hermione said finally. "And you know Harry and Ron won't be happy with it, so if you really want to help, if you really want to take Voldemort – oh get over yourself – down, you will have to do exactly as you're told."

Draco nodded silently. Hermione got up to leave, she didn't doubt that Draco would eventually run away, but if he could help them before that, that would be great. He probably knew lot about blood lines and she maybe knew what had happened with the Gaunt family.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione stopped. Unsure of what she had heard. His voice was very low, but she was almost positive she'd heard it.

"For what," she asked cautiously.

"For everything," he said. His voice was shaking and Hermione believed that he might be crying. Not wanting to be alone with an emotionally unstable Draco, she left the classroom quickly. She didn't understand why Draco had a sudden change of heart, but he probably had his reasons, maybe he finally had understood how much of a complete and utter arse he'd been through their years together.

After a looking through a couple of more rooms for Riddle, Hermione turned around, intending to leave the basements. That's when she saw him, just as handsome as he'd ever been, walking towards her with strong and confident steps.

"I've been looking for you," she said with a smile. "I haven't seen you all week."

Smiling, he put a finger on her lips to shut her up before he kissed her soft and tenderly. With that treatment, it was hard to believe that he was the same man she'd argued with last week.

They ran up to the Room of Requirement, which had changed completely since the last time they had been there. The room was bigger, the bed was softer, and the floor was now made of wood. Hermione wondered if the walls could see and understand what was going on inside it.

"I've missed you," Riddle said. They laid on the bed, looking up at the roof.

"I've missed you too," Hermione answered truthfully. They laid there on the bed for a while, talking about everything between the sun and the moon. Hermione was glad to talk about something besides Voldemort for a while, and she wisely decided to let Malfoy out of the conversation. She would have to talk to the boys about it in the morning.

"Are you going home for Christmas," Hermione asked after a while. She turned her head to look at him. He kept on staring in to the roof.

"Yes," he answered. "It's been a long time since I've been absent for so long. Are you staying or going home to your parents?"

"Neither," she answered. "My parents are travelling, so I'm headed for the Weasley's, they invited me a couple of days ago."

If Tom didn't like it, he didn't say anything about it at last. Maybe he'd just messed up the last time they were together, yes, that was probably it. Hermione was hopeful about their relationship, even if they didn't meet every day; it wasn't a problem for them.

"I should go," said Hermione after a while. It was already dark outside, and she really needed a good night sleep. They'd been sitting up for hours lately, so she hadn't slept all too much. Riddle however, had other plans, when Hermione got up, he grabbed her from behind and made her fall back in bed with him, landing on top of him.

"Stop it," she laughed when he started to tickle her. He rolled around so he was on top of her, and kissed her playfully on the lips. Hermione responded of course, loving every piece of caressing movement he made.

Tom let a finger glide down her body and sneak under her skirt in sort of an asking manner. Hermione laughed of course, and let him do whatever he wanted to her.

At the Hogwarts express the day after, Hermione was dead tired. She and Tom had stayed up basically all night, only falling asleep an hour before dawn, making her almost lose the train. Ginny looked at her knowingly, when Hermione yawned for what had to be the hundredth time since she got on the train, but the boys were oblivious to her nightly escapades.

Neville came in to their compartment on the train, just as Hermione was about to fall asleep. He looked solemn and worried, clutching the Daily Prophet in his hands.

"You guys really need to read this," he said, handing Harry the newspaper. Neville had been making a lot of new friends this year, which made Hermione both happy and proud on his behalf, he'd never been very popular, but he'd met some Hufflepuff's and he seemed to enjoy their company a lot.

Harry read the newspaper, his face turning into a bigger frown for every word he read. "The Malfoys are dead," he finally said. Hermione sat up straight, was that the reason Draco had cornered her in such a manner yesterday? Did he already know then?

"They were found dead in their manor after an anonymous tip," Neville said. "I just thought I'd let you know." His loyalty was impeccable, Hermione thought. None of the probably hundreds of students reading the Daily Prophet every day had even bothered to mention it to them today.

"Yeah, thanks, Neville," Harry said, frowning down at the article. Neville left shortly after to see his friends again. Hermione suspected that he was on the verge of a relationship with one of the Hufflepuff girls, which of course was great for Neville's sake.

"Draco cornered me yesterday," Hermione said. The rest of the group looked at her with disbelief on their faces.

"He didn't hurt you, did he," Ron asked.

"No, it was nothing like that," Hermione said. "He was wondering what we were doing, I've never seen him like that. He was genuinely interested in what we were doing, he wanted to help. I told him to ask Dumbledore."

"You think he knew then," Ginny asked.

"I think so," Hermione said. "He said something along the lines of knowing what Voldemort was capable off."

"We really should talk to Dumbledore," Harry said. "We need to find out if this is just a trick or if the Malfoy's really have been murdered, and if it is indeed Voldemort who has done it."

"I'm not working with that git," Ron said suddenly, "I feel bad for him with his parents and such, but he's been nothing but a git toward us for the past five years."

"He apologised to me," Hermione said silently. Harry and Ginny looked surprised, Ron looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

When they arrived at Kings Cross, they'd discussed the Malfoy case in length. They had just walked through the barrier, when they stopped right in their tracks. Professor Dumbledore was standing outside in the most peculiar clothing they'd ever seen him in. They had seen him in robes in every possible colour of course, but seeing him in muggle attire was the funniest thing either of them had seen. He was wearing a regular, grey muggle suit with tie and had even switched out his regular high heeled boots with normal dressing shoes.

"Professor," Harry stuttered.

"Come, we need to go." Dumbledore held out an arm at them so they could disapparate together.

Shortly after they appeared right outside the Burrow, where none other than Draco Malfoy was waiting with the other Weasley's. Hermione had to shake her head, not believing what she was seeing. Malfoy looked like a wreck, he'd obviously not slept that night.

"Mr Malfoy, you look awfully tired," Dumbledore said, like Malfoy belonged at the Burrow. Fred and George were staring at the young blonde with contempt in their eyes, but their mother had obviously shut them up. "I'm afraid I have to steal you for a moment though, before you can sleep. I'm sure Molly will have set up a bed for you when we come back from our little trip."

Draco nodded at the professor, and sent a weak smile in Mrs Weasley's direction.

"Molly, if you'll allow it, I'll take the youngsters here for a walk through the woods, and I would appreciate it if everybody kept their ears to themselves." His eyes twinkled in the direction of the twins, who were looking quite annoyed that they couldn't be a part of the conversation.

The five of them walked through the woods of the Burrow, Dumbledore not saying anything yet. They were all in deep thoughts, probably wondering what the hell was going on with everything. Had Voldemort really started killing again? And why were the Malfoy's targeted? They all knew that Lucius Malfoy had never been the most popular follower of the Dark Lord, but they hadn't believed that he would end up dead.

"Ms Granger, I believe Mr Malfoy here came to you last night," Dumbledore stated. It wasn't really a question, seeing as Dumbledore already knew this. "Draco here came to me last night after your little meeting, and told me he'd gotten an owl from one of Voldemort's followers, saying his parents were dead. I sent half the Order to figure it out, and when they confirmed it, I decided to take Draco here with us."

Hermione was genuinely sorry for Draco; he looked like he'd aged ten years in just one night.

"Draco was very interested in what you have been doing the past week, and offered to help." Before anyone could interfere, he continued. "I've decided to help him. A change of heart could happen at the most peculiar times."

"I'm sorry, professor," Ron protested, "but I'm not working with him. He's been a bloody ass against us for the past years."

"I realise that personal feelings can't be put aside with just a flick of a wand," Dumbledore calmly. "But if Draco can help the cause, then you should accept any help you can get. You haven't gotten anywhere so far, so an extra hand can always come in handy." He smiled reassuringly at Ron. "Now, I have other things to take care of, mainly eating some supper, so I will see you all after the Holidays. And do try not to tear down the house, I don't think Molly would thank either of you for that." Then he disapparated again, leaving the five of them alone.

They looked at each other for a good five seconds, neither of them really knowing what they were to do. This Christmas would probably be the most awkward one in the history of the world, Hermione thought.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, breaking the silence. "For everything."

Then Harry did something, that made Ron's jaw drop to the ground. He went over to Draco and shook his hand. "I'm sorry too," Harry said sincerely. "About your parents, about everything that's happened."

"Well, if Harry can work with you, so can we," Ron said. "But I will not hesitate to hex you if you try any funny business."

"Agreed, Weasley," Draco said, attempting a smile.

Walking back to the Burrow, they filled in Draco on exactly what it was they were doing, and ordering him to be the eyes and ears in the Slytherin dungeons. Draco had mentioned for Dumbledore that there were quite a few books on wizard ancestry at the manor, so Dumbledore had sent someone to pick them up, and they were waiting up in Ron's bedroom.

Molly was fussing quite a bit over Malfoy, thinking he was way too thin for his own good, and forcing him to eat second helpings of everything the next days. To Hermione it actually seemed like Draco was enjoying himself, even if he was still quite shaken up about his parents deaths.


	12. Christmas

Hermione hadn't given Tom much thought the past few days. They had been too busy fuming over books and enjoying the fantastic meals Ms Weasley came up with every day.

Christmas morning they woke up to the glorious smell of pancakes drifting through the house, and Hermione felt very hopeful for the day. Not only the Christmas party of course, but she had a good feeling about the whole day.

Hermione and Ginny walked down together, finding the kitchen cramped with people. Harry and Ron were stuffing their faces with pancakes, Fred and George were demonstrating some new stuff for their joke shop which Fleur and Bill enjoyed immensely. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see Mr Weasley talking to Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody who had popped by for a surprised visit. Draco was talking to Ms Weasley by the counter, and by the sounds of it he was apologising for intruding on them on the Holiday season, and thanking her for being so kind to him, even if his father had been awful to Arthur.

All in all, it was a very good sight. Ginny and Hermione joined the table, and Hermione noticed Fred looking at her with a sly smile on his face. She ignored it, and started to eat as well. They'd been sitting up late last night, so she was really hungry.

They had decided to open their presents together after breakfast, which Hermione always had done with her parents at home. It was a cosy tradition she'd missed all those years when she'd been at Hogwarts, and was glad that Mrs Weasley had accepted when she had asked about it.

The presents were many, and the laughter sat loosely. They all got a Weasley sweater each, Hermione's was a beautiful shade of blue with a quill in the front, instead of the usual letters that the Weasley kids got. Harry's was green, to match his eyes, with a golden snitch on the front. Even Draco got one, it was grey, with a serpent in the shape of an S on the front of it. Hermione doubted he was going to wear it, but he put it on right away. Maybe it was because all the Weasleys were there, Hermione thought. From her parents, Hermione got a beautiful silver watch and a letter of love, which gave her a pang of regret of not being in Australia with them on this day.

It was all very fun until the last two packages. Mrs Weasley came with two parcels in her hands, one for Draco and one for Hermione. Hermione didn't quite understand who else could have given her a present, Tom maybe? But they hadn't discussed giving each other presents. She was about to open it when she saw the look on Draco's face though, he'd gotten a really stunning set of dress robes and matching shoes and pocket watch. No one asked who they were from; it was obvious the gift was from his parents and Dumbledore had made sure he'd gotten it. Draco quickly excused himself, leaving the Weasley's, Hermione and Fleur just staring at the place he'd just stood.

It took a few seconds, before Mrs Weasley reminded Hermione that she'd gotten another gift too. Hermione wasn't quite sure if she should open the parcel in front of everyone, but she still did. She slowly pulled the paper from the parcel, and revealed a small jewellery box. There was a small note lying on top of the box, so she decided to open that first.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_Lucas bought you this before his very untimely death. He often spoke of you, and we're sorry we didn't get to meet you. We thought you should have it._

_Mr&Mrs Roberts._

Hermione felt her eyes welling up with tears, but she didn't care. She slowly opened the box and revealed a most beautiful silver necklace in the shape of a flower with a small blue stone in it. Inside there was yet another note.

_Dear Hermione_

_When you get this, hopefully it won't be long until we see each other again._

_Love, Lucas._

As Ginny put the necklace around her neck, Hermione was downright sobbing. It was the most thoughtful gift she'd ever received, she had briefly mentioned to Lucas that blue flowers were her favourite, and she couldn't believe that he'd actually remembered.

After a while the mood in the living room was once again cheerful, but Hermione didn't really feel like talking to anyone right then, so she excused herself for a while. She walked outside to the garden, and saw freshly trampled steps in the snow, which she of course followed, because her curiosity had the best of her.

Draco was sitting on one of the benches in the garden, looking like a thousand sorrows had been dumped on his back. Hermione didn't say anything; she just sat down next to him. It didn't matter that they weren't even friends, but it felt like the right thing to do. They sat in silence for a while, Hermione mulling over the necklace she'd gotten from Lucas, after having only known him for a few weeks. She decided she would go and meet his parents sometime over the Holiday, it was the least she could do, maybe visit his grave if they would join her.

"We're going to get him," Draco said silently. "Voldemort." Hermione looked at him, Draco had never spoken his name before, but it didn't look like Draco was afraid anymore, just determined to kill him in the most painful way possible. "I'm going to find him, even if it kills me in the attempt."

"You sound like Harry," Hermione noted. It was amazing to see really, that at heart, Draco and Harry were much more alike than anyone would believe.

"He's rubbing of on me," Draco said with a small smile.

They walked inside together, having decided to read a bit more before dinner was served. It wasn't the perfect way of spending Christmas Day, but it would do, Hermione recognised the burning sensation of revenge in Draco's eyes, and she would help him get it.

Christmas Day blew by like it was nobody's business. The dinner at night brought out a brand new splendour in Mrs Weasley's cooking talent, and every one of them ate until they could barely stand up straight afterward. After dinner, everybody in the living room was busy with their own. Fleur and Draco, who got along very well, were sitting in a sofa, chatting away happily, while Bill and Remus were talking about Voldemort's next move. Arthur was talking to Moody about Dumbledore's absence from school, but knowing they weren't to say anything, none of his secret workers said anything.

It was past midnight when Hermione went out to find Crookshanks for the evening. She didn't like him to be out at night, and quite frankly, he was probably happier lying on her bed as well.

"Hermione." Fred's voice was suddenly behind her ear. She hadn't even heard the door close after him, he'd moved so quietly. He put her arms around her from behind, but Hermione moved away.

"Fred," she said silently. "You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what," he asked, moving in on her. "I wouldn't do anything if I thought you didn't want it.

When Hermione thought about it, she and Tom had never been an exclusive item, they'd hooked up a couple of times, sure, and they were good friends, but they were not a couple. Hermione smiled a bit, thinking that she and Fred would probably blow her mind. Of course, Ron would hate on her more than he hated on Draco, but he would have to understand someday that Hermione was going to move on.

"Come on," Fred whispered. He was right next to her now, their faces barely touching.

Hermione simply didn't care anymore; she got up on her tippy toes and placed a gentle kiss on Fred's lips. He put her arms around her and held her tightly against his body as he deepened the kiss. After a while she stepped away from him though, not knowing if it was smart to take this further.

"I should get to bed," Hermione said with a hint of a question in her voice.

"What if you don't, though," Fred murmured in her ear, "what if I show you my and George's secret place."

Fred leaded the way in to the garage, and up to some sort of a storage loft. It was dark there, but Fred just waved his wand to conjure some floating fire. There wasn't much up there, just some cushions spread on the floor and a couple of blankets on top. It was very cosy, but Hermione was still a little unsure if she actually should do this. Fred didn't seem to think twice though; he walked her over to the makeshift cushion-bed, and sat her down next to him.

"No jokes," Hermione asked with a little smile

"Nothing to joke about," Fred answered sincerely. Hermione smiled, and pushing Tom Riddle's face to the back of her mind, she leaned in and kissed Fred again. They fell back in bed, groping each other in sort of a desperate way. Soon, Fred had rolled himself on top of Hermione, and they were both struggling with each other's clothing. Hermione pushed him off and took of her own dress and bra, while Fred undressed himself as well.

"Fuck, Hermione, your body," Fred commented as her bra was lost. He closed in on her again, now letting his hands run down her body in the most sensual manner. Hermione leaned into his embrace, and could feel his lean upper body against her own. She never would have believed that his body was such a treat underneath the clothes. Slowly, she swung them around, and showed Fred down on the makeshift bed.

"God, Hermione," he moaned as she grabbed his dick; position herself on top of him. With slow motions, she started rocking back and forth on him, feeling his cock filling her up real good. Fred moaned again, and pushed his dick into her for each of her movements. He brought his thumb up to her mouth and let her lick it, before he let it move down to her pussy, rubbing her clit vigorously.

Fred suddenly flipped her around in the sexiest way, and he was lying on top of her, looking hungrily down at her. It didn't take long before they both climaxed, and Fred collapsed down on top of her, panting.

* * *

**A/N**: First of all, hi! Sorry for the long wait, but I've been super busy. Since easter I've been in Oslo, and then I've started my practical theatre examns. It's going pretty good though.

Second, I'm not happy with this chapter, at all. And I know this is very off-character for Hermione, but I need it to happen for what happens in the next chapter. I tried re-writing it, but only sex was kind of horrible enough. I don't know how to explain, but whatever. If you don't like it, I totally understand, but you don't have to be rude about it.

Love,

LiKv


	13. The Return

**A/N**: First of all, sorry for not updating in ages, I've been coped up watching hell's kitchen with my examns. This is a short one, and Riddle isn't being entirely pleasant in it. Ugh. And some of you probably don't like Hermione after the last chapter, but that's okaaay. Later, lovelies!

* * *

The rest of the Holidays, Hermione didn't see much of Fred (or George for that matter). They had gone back to their flat in London, and Hermione was buried in work the times they visited the Burrow. The five of them hadn't had any progress yet, and it was getting on everybody's nerves. Ron had gone back to shooting bubbles out of his wand instead of actually doing anything productive, which was getting on Draco's nerves so bad Hermione believed he could burst any minute.

Lucky for all of them, they didn't have to take the train back to Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore didn't feel that was safe enough for any of them, especially not Malfoy, so they used floo powder to get back to Hogwarts. Hermione was particularly glad, believing that if Malfoy and Ron spent any more time in the cramped loft at the Weasley's, they would strangle each other.

Hermione arrived in professor McGonagall's office a little dinnertime.

"Good evening, Ms Granger," McGonagall said without really looking up from her work. "Try to not get a lot of ash on the carpet, if you please."

Not five minutes later, the gang were walking out of her office together, except Malfoy. They'd agreed that nobody could know that Draco was now on speaking terms with them, or that he was working with them for that matter. It was best that way, so that he could indeed be their eyes and ears in the Slytherin common room.

"Hermione," a soft voice said from the shadows. Hermione turned around on the spot, Riddle was standing there, handsome as ever. He really had a way of sneaking up on her. Ginny took a good hold of Harry and Ron, and dragged them along the corridor, leaving Hermione alone with Tom.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, stroking a hand softly down her cheek. Hermione smiled, he really knew how to be charming. They went hand in hand up to the seventh floor, to conjure the Room of Requirement where they always had their meetings. Today the room was dimly lit with candles spread around the room, a big, soft bed with green bed sheets, and a cosy fireplace by the wall.

However, Hermione barely had time to see the room before he threw her across the room, nearly making her lose her balance. "You didn't think I would notice," he snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously red. Hermione quickly reached up to her neck, touching the remains of a bite mark Fred had left there. Growling like an animal, Riddle approached her. Hermione backed away slowly, afraid of what he was going to do if she made any sudden movements.

"You're just a filthy little slut." Riddle closed in on her, clearly not caring about that she was so afraid she actually trembled. He grabbed her arms and lifted her up against the wall, bringing his face close to hers. "You belong to _me_. Do you understand?" Hermione didn't answer, tears running down her face. Shaking her out of anger, Riddle repeated the question, making every syllable perfectly clear."

"Yes," Hermione answered, her voice shaking. "Yes."

"Good girl." Riddle dropped her down the wall like a ragdoll. Still crying, both from the pain and the confusion, Hermione tried to get up from the floor, but it seemed her strength had left her completely. "Get up you silly girl," Riddle hissed. With an enormous force of strength, Hermione managed to get on her feet. Tom was standing against the window, his back against Hermione. She started to walk towards the door, determined to leave him and just get to her common room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tom flicked his wand and threw her violently against the wall. The pain was excruciating, it felt like she was completely broken. Riddle obviously didn't care, but walked towards her and lifted her so she got on her feet again. "Sit on the bed," he commanded. Hermione didn't want to disobey him, so she trembled over to the bed and sat down, feeling every movement like a thousand knives through her body.

"I don't want to hurt you," Riddle said, suddenly stroking her cheek gently again. "But you have to understand, you are mine, and you cannot continue to disobey me."

Hermione nodded, afraid to do anything else. She hated herself for giving in to his touch, she hated herself for being so damn attracted to him, and she certainly hated herself for actually being in love with him. Her eyes were swimming with warm tears, but she didn't even care to brush them away, probably it would be too painful too. She was afraid to even move, in case of what Riddle would do to her.

"Don't cry." His voice was suddenly gentle and caring, how a lover should speak to his girl. He closed in on her and kissed her ever so lightly, acting like he was afraid to hurt her even more. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her lips. "Please stay with me."

As afraid as Hermione was of him right then, she didn't even consider leaving him. She didn't know what had gotten into her, but she knew that if she left Tom, if she left this mystery of a man, she could never truly be happy again.

"Always," Hermione answered silently, as his lips closed in on hers again. They proceeded to gently make love, and when Hermione was lying next to him afterwards, she couldn't help herself but to feel absolutely happy.


	14. The Unexpected Friend

A/N: Hello lovelies! Long time, no see? Haha. This is probably the quickest I'll ever update this though. Examns are wearing me out (we're putting up a play, and everyone is bitching at everyone all. the. time). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to review if you do!

xoxo

* * *

The morning after, Hermione made sure her clothes covered up her bruised skin before she walked with pain in every movement to the library to meet the others. Draco was already sitting there when she walked in the door, and was greeted with a smile."

"Where's the rest" she asked. She was munching on some toast she'd taken with her from the breakfast table, wanting to get started as soon as possible.

"Emergency Quidditch practice," Draco drawled. "Like Gryffindor has any chance of beating us anyway." He rolled his eyes at her, but kept the tone light.

"We'll see about that," Hermione answered simply. "Are you getting anywhere?"

"I just came, actually," he answered. "But I got this idea last night. Right now we have only pieces and fragments of what we want, which is a full overview of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It's from an old book called the Pure-Blood Directory," he said as he saw the look of utter bewilderment on Hermione's face.

"How do you propose we do that," Hermione asked tiredly.

Malfoy drew his wand, and slowly moved one of the bookshelves over to another wall, leaving the biggest wall in the room empty. "We draw it out, of course." As he was speaking he took a piece of parchment and started to engorge it so it fit the wall perfectly, reminding Hermione of the wallpiece in Grimmauld's Place. "Starting with the Peverells, of course – I don't think we need to go farther back than that anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because it all started with the Peverell brothers," he said. "Remember, my father has pretty much beaten our family history into my head since I was still wearing diapers."

Hermione could hardly imagine Draco wearing diapers without laughing, but she tried to contain her laughter. Malfoy's idea weren't actually that bad. "What about the missing ones? In Sirius' place there was this big wallpiece, but his mother had burned away all the blood-traitors and squibs."

"If Harry will allow it, and you of course," Draco answered with a sarcastic smirk, "we will ask the house elves. I know our old elf doesn't have a kind heart towards me, but as I understand it, he is quite taken with Harry."

Hermione nodded. Kreacher and Dobby would indeed be very helpful. Dobby probably knew about the missing pieces on the Malfoy tree, and Kreacher was bound to know about the missing Blacks. At least they would get some new information, and hopefully be able to connect the dots where there were some pieces missing.

"No, we know that the Weasley's probably have nothing to do with anyone associated with the Dark Lord, seeing as they are blood-traitors the lot of them." Hermione scuffed. "You know it's true, Granger," Draco said. "It's not to be rude, but it's true, and it has been for several generations. The Weasley's have never been popular amongst the ones with proper feeling for blood."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Of course she knew it was true, but it didn't make her feel any better hearing Malfoy saying it out loud like that. Proper feeling for blood was just a lot of codswallop in her opinion, but Draco had always had that feeling, and she doubted any of it would change if she said anything.

"The Prewetts, on the other hand," Draco continued, "that's Mrs Weasley, is much more relevant. As far as I can tell, they were still accepted in the pure blood community, even after Gideon and Fabian joined the Order."

The two of them spent all morning trying to make sense of all the blood lines, asking sometimes who were married to whom, or which one of the Sirius' in the Black family tree had which children.

"We've gotten quite long," Draco said right before dinner. "If we keep this up after dinner, we'll probably have gotten to the eighteenth century before night."

Draco left the room a few minutes before Hermione, who locked the door with a spell only her wand could break. It was a nifty little trick she'd learned from the Weasley twins a couple of years ago, and it had proved to be quite useful on several occasions.

Dinner was tedious, Harry, Ron and Ginny only talked Quidditch tactics, and they were all three too tired to really be of any use afterwards. Hermione however, wanted them to come up and see what she and Draco had done when they were gone, so they reluctantly agreed. After all, lessons started the next day, so they wouldn't have much time to look at it then. Ginny was on her last term, and would have to review her notes for her O.W.L's most of the time.

"Harry," Hermione said as they were walking up. "Ferret boy wanted to use Dobby and Kreacher to fill in the gaps in the tree." Ferret boy was the name they had decided, much to Draco's dismay, to use when they were talking about him, just in case of nosy Slytherins.

"Sure," Harry said. "But I will hex him if he tries to hurt either of them. I'm not Kreachers biggest fan, but he has a point."

Walking in to the room in the library, Hermione could see the rest of the gang were pleasantly surprised to see just how much work Hermione and Draco had done.

"This is amazing," Harry said with a big grin. He walked the length of the wall, looking up at the names Draco and Hermione had filled in. "Where is the Weasleys though," he asked after a while.

"Well," Hermione said carefully. "As Draco so kindly put it, the Weasleys have been, well, blood traitors for several generations, so he highly doubted Voldemort would have any associations with them." She looked carefully over at Ron and Ginny, who were looking at her in disbelief. "If we get nowhere though, we'll fill in the gaps there as well."

"It does make sense though," Ginny said. "He actually has a point. It's only out of luck, or the lack of it, that our line is pure blood. Half our family has been marrying half-bloods and muggles for centuries."

"That was my thoughts exactly," Malfoy drawled, having entered the room without any of them noticed. "Of course we'll fill you in if we get nowhere, but I think most of your family is quite useless, for this purpose." He laid weight on the last part of the sentence though. Hermione had the impression that Draco really had enjoyed staying with the Weasleys over the holidays, and had been on friendly terms with most of them (maybe except for Ron).

After having called on Kreacher and Dobby, Harry, Ron and Ginny went off to shower and get some sleep, they'd been out flying all day, and Hermione couldn't blame them. Draco and Hermione asked the elves out about what they knew about the blood lines, and both Dobby and Kreacher answered them happily. Well, Kreacher answered Draco happily, giving Hermione dirty looks from time to time, and Dobby answered Hermione happily, giving Draco dirty looks from time to time.

They had filled in quite a few gaps in the tree, promising the elves they would call them if they needed anything else. Before leaving them for good though, Dobby popped back with a few of bottles of butterbeer and some pumpkin pasties from the kitchen.

"So," Draco said after a while. He laid down, looking up at what he probably thought of as his masterpiece. The wallpiece was getting bigger by the hour, and Hermione too had to admit it was a brilliant idea from Malfoy's side.

"We don't seem to be getting anywhere," he continued. "We have connected all the dots, and we have gotten to the eighteenth century, without finding the smallest clue about You-Know-Who's family."

"At least the Gaunt family line is still breeding," Hermione said tiredly. "We just have to figure out who was the spouse of Corvinus Gaunt and then just fucking get this over with." Hermione stretched her arms, being tired of sitting still for so long. They used another little spell to get the names on the parchment, so they had been sitting on the floor for quite some time now.

"Hermione," Draco suddenly said. "What is that?"

Hermione looked down and saw that her shirt had slipped up while she was stretching, revealing a rather ghastly looking bruise on her hip bone.

"Nothing," she said quickly, dragging her sweater down again. "It's nothing."

"Hermione," Draco said seriously. "Who did that to you?"

"No one," Hermione answered. "I fell."

Draco quickly took Hermione's wand from the floor next to him. "Don't make me stun you to see it," he threatened.

Even though Hermione was kind of glad for Draco's compassion, she certainly didn't want to tell him about last night's events, so she got up and went for the door. Draco however, threw a locking spell at it, making her unable to open it.

"Hermione," he said. "Take of your shirt."

"I never would have thought you to be such a pervert, Ferret boy," Hermione said coolly to him.

"Granger, I really don't want to hex you, so just do it already.

Reluctantly, Hermione slowly took her sweater off, revealing her battered and bruised body. She turned around, partially out of shame, partially so she wouldn't punch him in the face for looking so desperately sorry for her. Her back probably looked even worse than her front though, seeing as she'd been thrown against the wall a couple of times the night before.

"Riddle did this to you," Malfoy whispered. It wasn't even a question, Hermione noted.

"You don't understand," she said silently, turning back to face him. He was looking like a thousand burdens had just fell flat on his face. If Hermione hadn't been so ashamed of herself, and so furious at Malfoy for forcing her to do this, she might have liked that he worried about her.

"You're right, I don't," he said. "But you can't see him again, Hermione."

"That's really none of your business, Malfoy," Hermione said.

"But it is," Draco answered solemnly. "You have been so kind to me after what happened with my parents; you have laughed with me, cried with me and been there for me. And even if you don't consider me as your friend, you are my friend. And no one should have to see their friends go through something like this, no one should have to experience this, especially not you."

A tear slowly fell down Hermione's face, she never suspected that Draco actually thought of her as a friend.

"You can't tell anyone," Hermione said as she pulled her sweater on again. "Please, don't tell anyone, and for Merlin's sake, do not confront Tom." She feared what Tom might do to Draco if he tried to interfere with their relationship, and she feared what Tom might do to her, if he knew that she'd told Draco how she'd gotten her bruises.

"I won't," Draco answered. He handed Hermione her wand, and with one last look back, Hermione left the library.


	15. I'm Yours To Keep

**A/N: **So this happened. Anyway. Don't expect anymore updates until the 20th-ish of June. I'm currently working my ass of in school and going to London shortly after the examns are done. Maybe I'll be able to put up something, but most likely I won't.

As always, I appreciate everything you write to me!

xoxo

* * *

The next few days, Hermione really couldn't remember much. She'd been burying herself in schoolwork, trying to catch up on what she hadn't been able to do on the holidays. She met with Riddle every night, and they stayed up in the Room of Requirement, alternating between having long talks about everything and nothing, and having sex until they were so tired they could barely stand up straight.

It seemed that Draco had held his promise though, seeing as Riddle didn't confront her about anything, and none of her friends were acting any differently against her. She feared what Harry and Ron might do to Riddle if they ever found out what he had done to her.

"You're healing," he noted one night they laid naked in bed together. He outlined what was left of her bruises. She didn't answer; she really didn't want to think about that night and what he might do to her again.

They lay silently beside each other for a while again, listening to each other's breathing. Hermione felt happy, and every time she looked at Tom, she got butterflies in her stomach the size of pigeons. It was like she was breathing for him, the blood in her body only circulating for him.

"What are you doing in the library all the time," he asked after a while. Fuck. Hermione had not been expecting that, she couldn't answer him truthfully, Dumbledore would be so mad, and he was probably the only man she would lie to Tom for.

"I'm researching," she answered. It was as true as she could get with him.

"With Potter and the Weasleys?"

So he hadn't discovered that Draco was spending time with them too, that was always good. "Yes," she answered cautiously.

"What are you researching then," he pushed. He was stroking her back gently, and she felt so safe, laying there next to him. However, she knew that could change rapidly if she didn't give him the answer he expected.

"I can't tell," she said slowly, raising herself up on her elbows. "We're working on something for Dumbledore, and he made us swear not to tell." Her eyes welled up with tears, fearing what might happen next.

"I understand," Tom answered, much to Hermione's surprise. "But you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know," she said, now smiling. "And I would if I only could. He is the only one who can make me keep secrets for you."

Tom seemed contempt with her answer and sat up in the bed next to her. "I respect your loyalty," he said. "It is a most admirably trait of yours. And I hope that you will show me that kind of loyalty one day."

"Oh, I do," Hermione said, leaning in on him. "I would walk through fire for you, Tom."

With one swift and graceful movement he got out of bed. "I have something for you," he said with a smile. He found his wand in his cloak and waved it once, revealing a small box. He sat down next to her again, and opened the box slowly, revealing a beautiful silver ring with a green and a red stone entwined in each other. "But I want you to have it only if you agree to be mine."

Hermione's heart was beating at twice its normal speed, her tears welling up with tears again. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness, pain or fear; they were tears of utter and complete happiness.

"I am yours to keep," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

He gently took her hand and put the ring on her finger. It fitted her perfectly, and it was so beautiful, it made her feel like she was worth a million galleons.

"It pleases me to hear that," he said, before kissing her softly on the lips. They fell back on the bed together, their lips still interlocked. Hermione grinned devilishly at him as she climbed on top of him.

"You are absolutely perfect, you know that," she asked as she kissed his neck. She lingered there for a while, before she slowly started to work her way down his chest. His nipples were rock hard against her tongue, and she could feel his cock stirring against her leg. Her hands ran down his chest, as she alternated between kissing and licking her way down to the happy trail that leaded towards his now rock hard cock.

"Hermione," he moaned as she let her tongue drag down his hip bone. Teasing him a bit, she touched and kissed every area of his groin but his cock and balls, making him moan in sexual frustration.

"Just fucking blow me already," he cried out after a couple of minutes of this torturous behaviour. Hermione, being his obedient little girl, slowly lowered her mouth over his dick. She'd never actually given a blow job before, but Ginny had once told her that it wasn't very difficult, and most boys would appreciate her just for trying.

Hermione let her tongue circle the head of his cock a couple of times, before she placed her hand along the base of the cock, and just doing what felt like the natural thing to do. Tom obviously liked it, seeing as he moaned louder and louder for every time she lowered her mouth on to his throbbing member.

"Merlin, just let me fuck you," Tom cried out in a fit of horniness. Hermione smirked at him as she got up from his special treatment. Tom pulled her up to him, so that she was lying on his stomach. She could feel his dick up against her own belly as Tom drew her in a deep and hungry kiss. He managed to turn them, so that he was lying on top of her instead, and Hermione stared up at those beautiful eyes of his. With a quick movement, he thrust his cock into her, and Hermione whimpered in pleasure. She threw her head back as he fucked her in a deliciously combination of hard and gently, and it didn't take long before Hermione lost control of her body. With a cry of delight, she felt her body tense up in an orgasm so powerful it knocked the breath right out of her. Tom gave out a similar moan as he thrust into her with much strength and power a couple times more, before he too let his orgasm overtake him.


	16. Never Have I Ever

**A/N:** Hello lovelies! I'm all done with my examns, returned from London, and gotten back to my flat, so I can put in som docs to this story. Wow, that was a sucky sentence.

Anyway, this was my favorite chapter to write, and I love to re-read it just for the hell of it. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!

xoxo

* * *

After the event with the ring, Hermione had again spent every night in the Room of Requirement with Tom Riddle. He was truly a treat to be with when he was in a good mood, and he certainly had been for the past week. Hermione had also been working hard in her classes, realising that she, and the rest of her little group, were hanging behind in nearly every subject. It was simply because they had been spending so much time in the library though, and they'd decided to take a week off and work on actual school work instead.

"Hermione," Tom said late Thursday night while she was sitting on the floor, working on the latest essay in History of Magic – The First Wizarding War.

"What," she said, not really paying attention to him as she was scurrying through her notes from the last semester.

"I'm going home for the weekend," he said. "I have some family business I need to attend to."

Hermione looked up at him, feeling sad. She didn't want him to leave when they were having such a good time together. Every time they were away from each other, it was like Hermione's heart was filled with nothing but steel from missing him so much. It had happened over time, and it started to be a pain only to spend one night away from him.

"Don't be sad," he said, obviously sensing her feelings. "I will return on Sunday afternoon." Smiling weakly at him, she nodded. "I guess we'll have to do some extra-curricular activities tonight then, to make up for the lost time."

He simply grinned at her.

Friday evening, Hermione had a plan in mind. She would completely understand it if the others in her little group of friends didn't want in on it, but she would definitely do it. She'd asked Dumbledore for permission to sleep in the library, so they could get as much work as possible done over the weekend, seeing as they had been so busy during the week. He had gladly accepted and informed the librarian. He had also conjured some sleeping bags for them, and asked Dobby to bring them everything they wanted, which Dobby was more than happy to do of course, seeing as Harry would probably be there in the days.

"This is the best idea you've had in quite a while," Draco said. He hadn't been all too happy for the past week, since they hadn't been working, but he was in all good spirit again now. He'd also conjured up a lot of pillows and cushions so they could sit and sleep more comfortably than they would have with only the sleeping bags.

Harry, Ron and Ginny weren't thrilled about the weekend, but they agreed to do it either way. Saturday though, the three of them were off Quidditch practice, and Hermione longed to see Slytherin beaten just as much as them, so she couldn't deny it.

Friday evening went by in a blur and before nightfall she was so exhausted she was simply laying on the pillows, listening to the others talk. Draco had gotten Kreacher to go through every part of the Malfoy manor to find some more wizard heritage books, and the result were two new books, who were both thick as bricks. The books, Kreacher had told them, had been laying in one of the many hiding places in the manor, and Dumbledore must have missed them when he was there in the first place.

"Why don't we call it a night," Ron said after having put one more name on the wall. "We've been at it for hours."

"Brilliant idea, Weasley," Draco said with a devilish smirk. Hermione wondered what he had in mind, but it became obvious when he reached for his bag and pulled out a brand new bottle of firewhisky.

"Are you mad, Malfoy," Hermione muttered. "Dumbledore will put us in detention until the end of time if he finds out."

"Dumbledore isn't here, Hermione," Harry said, grinning at Draco, "I'll take a swig of that."

Malfoy uncorked the flask with a wave of his wand, and took a deep drink before handing the flask to Harry. "There's more where it came from," Draco said, glancing over at his bag, who was probably filled to the brim with liquors.

"You are absolutely the worst pair of people I have ever met," Hermione said half joking, half serious. However, both Ron and Ginny were eager to join in on the party, and in the end, only Hermione was left to start drinking.

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny said, holding out the flask for her. "You need to stop acting like you have a wand up your arse and start having more fun." It was followed by general laughter from the rest of the lot, and Hermione had no other choice than to accept the flask.

"This is stupid," she muttered as she took a long swig of the flask. The sensation of burning fire through her throat almost made her cough up the whole thing, but she decided to keep her pride and swallowed the liquid.

"Good girl," Draco said with a smirk. They passed the flask another round in silence, everyone probably taking deeper drinks than what was wise. Hermione knew that everyone probably was on edge over the whole Voldemort-is-killing-whomever-he-pleases-and-we-do n't-really-know-who-he-is-buisness.

"Hermione," Ginny suddenly said, reaching out for her hand. "That ring, is that new?"

Hermione blushed. She hadn't been wearing the ring from Riddle when she was with her friends, but she'd forgotten to take it of this morning. "Yes, it actually is," she said, sending a quick glance in Malfoy's general direction, she knew he wouldn't like this. "Tom gave it to me a few days ago."

Draco and Ron gave out a collective snort, but Hermione chose to ignore them both. Ginny however, squealed at her, obviously being happy that Hermione had found someone that made her so happy.

"Never have I ever," Harry suddenly said, breaking the mood, "had sex." The whole lot laughed, and the flask went around the group, everybody taking a swig of it. Draco finished the last drop, and pulled out another one from his bag.

"Well, if getting drunk is what we are aiming for, we need more," he said with a sly smirk. "Never have I ever snogged more than one person at the same party." He took a deep drink from the flask and sent it around. Only Ginny was the other one to take a drink from it though, and received surprising glances from both Ron and Harry.

"That is not something I want to know about my sister," Ron groaned.

"Stop being such a sour puss, Ron," Ginny said happily. "It wasn't anything serious, it was all good fun. Never have I ever made out with someone I just met." This time, everyone but Harry took a swig of the flask. After a while, it was obvious that Draco and Ginny was the most experienced in the general groin related area.

"Never have I ever," Harry said with an evil smirk directed at Draco, "had pity sex with Millicent Bullstrode."

Draco gave Harry a look of utter contempt, but took a swig from the flask anyway. He was obviously getting drunk, because he slurred when he explained the situation for the others (who were working hard to contain their laughter. "I know she's not exactly pretty," he started.

"Try ugly," Ron suggested, something that made Hermione snort. She'd never been a fan of that evil little bitch.

"Okay. She's uuugly," Draco agreed. "But there was a party, and she was fucking desperate, man." He sighed heavily and fell back on the pillows. "And it had been… a while since last time."

"How long," Ginny demanded to know.

Draco blushed deeply. "Five."

"Five weeks," Harry wanted to know, but Draco shook his head. "You don't mean five _months_?"

Ron roared with laughter, never having believed that Draco could possibly go so long without sex, he was, by all means, the most desired boy in all Hogwarts (maybe except for Harry).

"Shove it, Weasley," Draco drawled. "Tell me, before Lavender, how much arse did you get?" He took the flask from Ginny and took a swig that would impress even Mudungus Fletcher. Ron didn't answer, he merely sent Draco a look of utter dislike.

"Calm down, boys," Hermione slurred, realising that she was quite drunk herself. She had never had firewhisky before, only some wine once in a while. "Never have I ever used the Room of Requirement for the sole purpose of fucking." She quite enjoyed the courage the liquor gave her though.

"So, how many have you actually shagged, Draco," Ginny asked.

Draco looked like he was thinking hard, probably trying to count the lot of girls he'd been shagging since halfway through their fourth year. "Ten," he finally said. Hermione had believed the number to be even higher, but were still shocked that someone could shag so many people in only a two year period. But then again, they were talking about Draco Malfoy, notorious heartbreaker.

"I go, you go. So tell me, you lot."

"Two," Harry said easily. Cho and Ginny, of course.

"Five," Ginny admitted easily.

"So not something I needed to know about my sister," Ron muttered, rubbing his temples like he was trying to forget it. "But while we're at it, one."

All eyes were on Hermione now, only Ginny knew about her sleeping with Fred, so she could easily lie about it. "Three," she finally said. Not even knowing why she didn't lie. Ginny would never betray her trust, and Tom wanted her all to himself, so he would never tell either.

"Wait, what?" Harry looked bewildered. "I thought you'd only shagged Lucas and Riddle! Wasn't Lucas your first?"

"Well, yes," Hermione answered. She took a deep swig from the flask before continuing. "But I had an encounter with a rather handsome bloke during Christmas."

"But you were at the Burrow during Christmas," Ron said, not adding things up. "You didn't shag Malfoy, did you?" A look of utter disgust crossed his face.

"As flattering as it is that you believe that, Weasley," Draco drawled. "It wasn't me."

"It was Fred, okay," Hermione revealed, causing Ron to start rubbing his temples again. Harry and Draco just laughed.

They stayed up for several more hours, getting drunker by the minute, and Hermione seriously doubted she would be able to walk a straight line if she'd been threatened to do it by Voldemort herself. She didn't feel bad though, she just felt free and giddy, and she seemed to love her friends even more so than usual.

"We should get some sleep," Ginny mumbled in a drunken manner. Hermione highly doubted that if she herself had not been so utterly wasted, she would not have understood a word of what Ginny just had said.

After some scurrying they managed to get comfortable on the small makeshift bed. Harry and Ginny were laying in the middle, Harry holding around Ginny in a manner that said he'd protect her with his life. Ron laid near the edge on Harry's side, and Hermione and Draco laid on Ginny's side. Hermione was lying close to the wall, listening to the other's breathing slowly becoming softer and slower.

"Hermione," Draco whispered into her ear.

"What?"

"I'm worried about you." She could feel his fingers running through her hair, and she simply had to smile. Malfoy had truly been tamed from a fiery tiger to a soft kitten.

"I know," she answered silently. "But I'm fine. I really am. He's been good to me lately. Nothing but sweet and caring."

"I'm glad," Malfoy said. He put his arm protective around her, and Hermione fell asleep like that, with Draco's breathing in her ear.

* * *

**A/N (this is where I ramble about my life)**: This is mandatory to read (which all is, of course), this is bascially me just summing up what I've been up to for those of you that don't follow me on instagram or tumblr (which I believe is none of you. linakva on instagram and .com on tumblr).

So, examns: We put up a play. We spent 7 weeks making a 45 minute show, which was The Good Person of Sezuan by Bertolt Brecht. We worked day and night for this to happen, and we ended up with an A. Which makes me so stoked. An A is incredible. We have high standards with our grades here, and I never believed we could get an A.

Next, London: Me and my friend flew to London. Spent the days going to museums(I saw dinosaurs!) and The Tower of London (which was beyond awesome). The nights was spent at musicals. Phantom of the Opera, Rock of Ages and Les Miserables. We also spent about 9 hours shopping one day, which was exhausting. AND! We went to Kings Cross, where I got to brief my tattoo at the shop, which made my day so much. Didn't by much there though, since it was bloody expencive.

Last, Home: I've been home for a while, with the shitty computer who doesn't have my stories. That's why I havent been able to upload. I've been spending time with my gramps and my dad and my mom, cleaning out my room and stuff, since I have so muuuch to do.

So that was my life. Which probably interested you _so much_.

Until next time!


	17. There's Got To Be A Morning After

**A/N:** What? She's updating only after one week? WOW! I've also updated my other fic (The Smell of Apples), which is a Drarry fic, so hop along and read it after this one!

* * *

Hermione woke the morning after in the very same position she'd fallen asleep; with Draco Malfoys arm holding her tightly. The sun was beaming through the windows, and Hermione could her head pound like a million men were actually trying to crack her scull open.

"Draco," she muttered tiredly. "Draco, get up you prat."

"God, Granger, keep your voice down," Draco groaned. He rolled over on his back, staring up on to the roof. "How much did I drink last night?"

"Too much," Hermione answered. She slowly sat up, her stomach growling in hunger, but the mere thought of food made a wave of nauseousness roll over her, and she had to lie down again. "Fuck. Why did I let you talk me in to this," she groaned. The thought of Harry, Ron and Ginny probably hangover as fuck up on brooms though, made her laugh a little, despite the enormous discomfort she felt.

"You could have stopped when we finished our second bottle," Draco pointed out. "And as far as I can remember, it was you who suggested opening a third bottle, seeing as you were so drunk anyway, that it could hardly hurt."

Hermione groaned again. If she was going to stay in this form for the whole day, they wouldn't get much work done.

"Merlin; I'm gonna barf," Malfoy said. He quickly got out of his sleeping bag and hurried of into the bathroom that conjoined the room. Hermione was trying to think of every other thing that exactly that, but hearing the most disgusting sound of Malfoy puking his guts out, she could feel another wave of nauseousness roll over her. Realising she couldn't hold it in anymore, she ran for the tiny bathroom as well, and made it to the sinks before her stomach finally betrayed her. The sensation was overwhelming, she felt like her throat was on fire when the bitter vile poured out of her like it was nobody's business.

"Classy, Granger," Draco said. He was sitting by the toilet, his head leaning tiredly against the wall.

"I'm never drinking again," Hermione groaned as she sat down opposite of Draco. "And that's a promise."

"I'm seriously reconsidering my drinking habits myself," Draco said. He got up and leaned over the toilet again, but after breathing heavily a couple of times, he simply sat down again. "Kreacher," he suddenly cried out, making Hermione's head almost explode.

"Keep it the fuck down, Draco," she said as the elf materialized in front of them.

"Kreacher, please, get us something to eat. And some coffee."

"And water," Hermione chimed in. "Lots and lots of water."

"And possibly a killing curse, so I don't have to deal with this anymore," Draco groaned as he disappeared over the toilet, throwing up loudly.

"Sir," Kreacher said, before he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Kreacher soon returned with a tray of sandwiches, five bottles of water and a pot of coffee. The mere smell of the sandwiches though, was enough to make Hermione hurl again. How on earth could people do this weekend after weekend?

Draco handed her a bottle of water, and proceeded to pour some coffee for himself. Hermione thankfully accepted it, and downed the bottle in one, long gulp. She instantly felt much better, even though her head was still pounding. Not quite willing to eat something yet, she instead poured herself some coffee, and loaded it with sugar. She needed something that would get her blood sugar going.

"You should eat," Draco said with his mouth full of a sandwich that seemed to contain some sort of chicken salad, laced with mayo and pickles. It was truly the most disgusting sandwich Hermione had ever seen.

"Is that… stuff on all of them," Hermione asked cautiously.

"Nope. Just on mine," he said. "You could try it if you want to." He offered her a bite of her sandwich, which made Hermione feel the nausea building up in her again.

"No thanks," she said and grabbed one that seemed to be cheese and ham. It was the most delicious thing she had eaten all her life, it was absolutely perfect. "This is so good," she said through a thick mouthful.

They spent at least a couple of hours in the bathroom, not bothering to get up and actually go into the room, which probably smelled like the devil himself had been drinking there. Having the typical morning-after talks, which made everything much, much funnier than it probably was, they were laughing their arses of when professor Dumbledore suddenly stood in the entrance to the bathroom.

"Ms Granger, Mr Malfoy," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I see you are enjoying yourselves."

Hermione swallowed a bite of what must have been her fifth sandwich that morning. Oh, bogger, they were in trouble. "Both Potter and the Weasley's came to madam Pomfrey this morning to ask for a cure for hangover, so I naturally had to check up on you two too."

"We're sorry, professor," Hermione said. "We just… We were…"

"We've been working our arses off, pardon the language professor, for the past month. We needed a night off." Draco stood up before the professor, his head bowed in what Hermione doubted was shame, more like not trying to laugh.

"I understand," the professor said. "But rest assured, if the five of you hadn't been working so hard on this little project, I would've have to give you detention. Firewhisky is strictly forbidden among the students."

"We're sorry professor," Hermione said. "But there isn't any left."

"That," he said, "from the smell of it, is obvious. However, it seems that you lot have been punished enough. I imagine Harry and the Weasleys are having quite a horrible day at the Quidditch pitch, and you two sitting here makes my point even better." He smiled at them. Hermione could hardly believe that they weren't getting punished for this.

"I will be leaving you now," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I have some business in Ireland I will have to attend to. I will be back tomorrow afternoon."

Hermione and Draco waited until they could hear the door to their room being closed, before they started laughing. It was the most joyous laughter, the whole situation was so full of ridicule, and Hermione could barely breathe through the laughter.

"I need to take a shower," Hermione said after a few minutes of silence.

"By all means," Draco said with a devilish grin. His usual mood was surely returning.

"Get out, Draco," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Malfoy sniggered, and levitated the food and drink out of the room, as he left it herself.

Hermione had never believed that a shower could be as absolutely delightful as the one she had that morning. It was as though the warm water rinsed away every last bit of her hangover, and when she walked out of the bathroom, she felt as an entirely new person.

The sight that met Hermione in the other room, however, was not something she'd expected at all. Draco was sprawled out on the cushions, stroking his cock in that rather lazy manner Malfoy was so well known for in all other aspects of life. It was no surprise to Hermione to see that he was rather well equipped; she'd overheard some Ravenclaw girls talking about him earlier.

Hermione coughed, to let him know she was there, but either he didn't hear her, or he simply didn't care. Partially because she didn't know what to do, and partially because she simply couldn't take her eyes off Malfoy, she kept standing silent, watching him. She didn't find Draco desirable in any way, but she had never actually witnessed a wank before, and she was intrigued by it.

A low moan escaped Draco's lift, and Hermione watched as he gripped his cock tighter and fastened the pace of his work. Hermione felt the by now, familiar, tingling sensation in her lower regions, and even though she didn't want to fuck Draco, she was suddenly desperately horny. She could easily sneak back in to the shower and do whatever she needed to do, but she still could not move from the spot. However, it didn't take long before Draco let another loud moan escape his lips, and as Hermione watched, he positively exploded over his bare chest.

"Nice of you to join me, Granger," Malfoy drawled, his eyes still closed.

"You know I was here," Hermione said rather flustered.

"I'm neither blind, nor am I deaf," Draco said with a smirk. He cleaned himself up with a simple vanishing spell, and got his clothes back on. "I would never have believed you to be a peeper, Granger." He snickered at her as she tried to protest. "If you're interested in seeing more, I'll be in the shower."

Hermione, still not being able to move, just stood there in shame.

* * *

**A/N**: I am so oversexualizing every character there is, aren't I? Oh, well. This fic is a test run for my fic-career anyway, so I need to try out things. Like all the time.'

By the way, I asked this before, but whatevs. I have a chapter/document with my thoughts during the writing prosess, and it has the last chapter from another point of view. Very vague, I know. But would you like to see it? In that case, let me know in your review!

xoxo


	18. A Gaunt Secret

**A/N**: Hello lovelies! I just wanted to tell you that there are 22 chapters in this fic, there may or may not be an epilogue, that depends on whether or not I like it when I have posted the rest of this gigant. Maybe I'll post some sort of EXTRAS chapter with all the stuff I thought about when I wrote this and a couple of outtakes.

I hope you all enjoy summer, aaaand I'll see you in a week or so!

* * *

"I think I found it," Ginny Weasley shrieked. She was reading one of the books that Malfoy had provided, and looked positively beyond herself in excitement. Not bothering to explain, she ran up to the wall and started to draw a line, linking two of the Sacred Twenty-Eight together.

The wall had gotten pretty big, and was probably the most complete wizard heritage that was yet to be written in Britain. Hermione had wondered several times during the day if she should ask the others to publish it. Speaking of this morning, she had been flustered around Draco almost all morning, until he had told her to pull it together and act like a grown up. If it wasn't a big deal for him, then it certainly shouldn't been a big deal for her, who had only witnessed the event. Hermione reluctantly had to agree, but she was still a bit embarrassed for having so shamelessly been staring at him.

"Corvinus Gaunt has been who we haven't been able to connect to anyone, right," Ginny said happily. "It says in this book of Malfoy's," she waved in the general direction of Draco, "that the whereabouts of Corvinus was unknown for many years, _but_ when he came back, he had married a pure blood known as _Elizabeth Burke_, and they had several children together. Elizabeth had originally been denied marrying Corvinus, because of the family's tendency towards inbreeding. Corvinus died under mysterical circumstances not long after, and Elizabeth was forced into marriage with the brother of Septimus Malfoy." Draco looked aghast. "Everyone is related, Draco," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "When Corvinus died, his oldest son, Morphus was about fourteen, but Malfoy forced all the kids to change names. Morphus didn't like that one bit, and changed his name back as soon as he was off age."

Hermione squealed in delight, because she'd recently seen something in another book about a boy named Morphus Malfoy. "I have it too," Hermione said delighted. "Morphus married a pure blood by the name of Augusta Selwyn, and they had several children together. Here they are named Malfoys, but I can bet Merlin's nickers on that it's the same guy."

Draco dragged out a book that looked absolutely ancient. "It is," he said. "Morphus named his only son Corvinus after his grandfather. Corvinus married some Black family member that died tragically some years later, giving birth to Marvolo Gaunt!"

"That's not the same Marvolo," Hermione said. "It's probably Voldemort's grandfather, for not even Voldemort could be over 130 years old."

"Dumbledore probably is," Ron said with a grin.

"No, he's not," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "He's about a hundred, give or take a few years."

Draco smirked, he'd admitted to Hermione that he loved it when she told Ron off. "Anywaay," he said, still with that sly smile. "Marvolo Gaunt had two children with an unknown woman, but she was probably his cousin or something, just to keep the bloodline pure."

"It's what purebloods do," Ginny said unsympathetically.

"The hell with it," Draco said. "I'd rather marry a full on muggle than to actually do my cousin, or second cousin, or third cousin for that matter. It's illegal in the muggle world, you know, to marry cousins, it should be here too."

"You'd rather marry a muggle, and let the pure blood line of Malfoy die out?" Hermione looked at him in utter disbelief. "Your father would most definitively have hexed your brains out if he'd heard you now."

"But he's not really here, is he," Draco said bitterly. "Besides, the name Malfoy will always have respect, pure blood or not." Ron snorted and Draco sent him a dirty look. "The two children of Marvolo were known as Morphus and Merope Gaunt. Morphus died in Azkaban for attacking a ministry worker. Merope however, was the big shame of the family. It doesn't say much in the book, but as I understand it, she ran off with a muggle, who later returned to the small village… It doesn't say any name on either the town or the muggle… But the records stop there, it doesn't say anything about her having a child. Either old Marvolo didn't know, or he didn't acknowledge it.

"But let's say, it was Merope who gave birth to Voldemort, or Marvolo Gaunt the second. We have to find out where they lived, then maybe we can look into some muggle records over the Easter Holiday."

As they were still tired from yesterday's partying, they decided to crash it early. It was a little over ten, when they had huddled in their sleeping bags again. Hermione couldn't sleep though; she was worried about what they might find if they found Voldemort. Where could he be, and what was his plan?

"Hermione," Draco whispered in her ear.

"Yeah," she answered. Not really surprised that Draco was still awake.

He put his arm around her like yesterday. "About earlier today, it wasn't you, you know."

"What," she asked, not really following him.

"It's not that you aren't hot or anything, but I wasn't thinking about you."

She turned around to face him. "That's good, I think," she said with a little laughter in her voice. "I didn't really believe that either, if that helps."

"I just, you're a friend. Probably the closest friend I've ever had, and I just wanted to mention it, so you wouldn't avoid me or anything. That would be the worst thing that could happen to me right now, to lose you."

Smiling, Hermione reached out and stroked his hair away from his face. "Draco," she said. "Even though we've had our differences in our past, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is to leave you."

The morning after, they were woken by the sound of the door to their little room being opened. Hermione, not really wanting to get up, just snuggled deeper into Draco's chest, trying her best to ignore the sound of footsteps coming towards them.

"Professor," Harry said groggily, and Hermione had no choice but to peep up from the sleeping bag she and Draco had been sharing.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said brightly. "Or good day I should say, seeing as it is over eleven."

How had the clock gotten so much? Hermione rarely slept past nine, even on her days off, but perhaps it had something to do with feeling one hundred per cent safe with Draco's arms around her.

"Miss Granger, I thought you were seeing young Riddle," Dumbledore said. He conjured up a comfortable chair and sat down. "Or were I mistaken?"

"No, professor," Hermione said. She crawled out of her sleeping bag, pyjamas intact. "I and Draco are just friends."

"Ah, I see," the professor said, his eyes twinkling. "Very well, have you gotten anywhere with the task I have given you?"

"Yes, professor," Ginny said. She crawled out of her sleeping bag as well. She went over to the wall, and started to explain to the professor exactly what they had discovered and how they guessed it ended, with Merope being the mother of Voldemort.

"I knew I could trust you to figure this out," Dumbledore said in an impressed manner. "You truly are a remarkable lot; I wouldn't be surprised if you all would end up as aurors. Yes, even you, Draco." Draco had looked doubtful, but Dumbledore was just being himself, believing the best in every man.

"Professor," Hermione asked, "Do you have any idea of where the youngest generation of Gaunts were keeping house?"

"Yes, I believe so," Dumbledore answered. "But you have to give me a couple of days to figure it out for certain. Then, if you will, you five can go to the place and dig in the libraries there as well to figure out who Voldemort's father is."

They all agreed, and it was decided that, if Dumbledore found the proof he needed, next weekend would be spent at a shabby little motel in a still unknown town. When the headmaster left, they packed their knickknacks together, and sealed off the room with a spell only Harry's wand could break. Harry had always been most protective of his wand, and it was least likely that his was stolen. Draco left the library a little before them, but they could hardly see the point anymore, they'd gotten what they looked for.

Hermione was heading towards the Room of Requirement to pick up some school books when she was met with the most pleasant surprise. Tom Riddle was already pacing back and forth in front of the wall, making the door reveal itself.

"Hey, Tom," Hermione said happily and strode towards him. "How was your weekend?"

Riddle was obviously in a foul mood, for he sent her nothing but a sour look as he walked in to the Room of Requirement.

"Well, good day to you too," Hermione muttered under her breath, making sure he couldn't hear her. If it hadn't been for the fact that she needed her school books, she might as well have left right then, but of course she followed him inside.

"I think it's time to tell me what you are researching," Tom said the moment she stepped foot into the room. He was conjuring up a glass figure of some sort, which he blasted into a million pieces, merely because he was so pissed.

"I can't," she said cautiously. It was right that she loved Riddle, but she did not want to be near him when he was this angry.

"I thought your loyalties were with me," he said in an icy tone, but he was still sitting on the bed, not intending to move even an inch.

"It is," she claimed, "we're so near the end. I will probably tell you in a week or so. We're going to do some research in some muggle libraries and –" she didn't even get to finish.

"I don't have a week," he bellowed and threw her into the wall with a flick of his wand. Hermione screamed out loudly, her head had hit the wall and she was almost certain her scull had fractured. The pain was excruciating, but she slowly stumbled on to her feet and drew her wand.

"I don't understand why I stay with you," she growled at him and threw a hex in his direction, but he simply jumped away from it.

He waved his wand at her again, but this time she was prepared, and simply flicked it away. "Do I have to remind you that you agreed to be mine," he said icily, protecting himself from another spell cast from Hermione.

"I did not," she threw a fireball at him, "agree to this."

"You knew," he shouted, not bothering to fire back at her. "You know what I was like, and Merlin help me, I've never forced you to do anything."

Hermione stopped right in her tracks. "Then I'm free to leave now then," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No," he said simply. "You may not."

"You just say you didn't force me to do anything," she growled at him, drawing her wand again.

"Past tense," he said and sent an expelliarmus spell in her direction so her wand shot out of her reach. Oh, bugger.

Hermione crawled into a corner, watching as Tom closed in on her. "If you ever decide to leave me," he said with ice in his voice. With a quick movement, he dragged her up from the ground after her hair, making Hermione's head burn with pain. "I will torture and kill every last person you have ever loved and every person you ever will love. And I will continue to do so until you are left as an empty shell of a human being, isolating yourself from the world, afraid that if you as much as talk to someone, I will kill them. Are we clear?"

"Impeccably," Hermione answered icily and spat him in the face. She already knew before she could see his reaction, that it had been a most rash and stupid decision to do so. She could feel his rage radiating from his body, and his eyes didn't just flash red, they stayed that way. With an enormous strength, he lifted her up after her overarm's and stared her right in the face.

"You're such a stupid girl." She tried to kick him, but he managed to throw her hard onto the floor before she even had a chance of getting a hit. The dizziness overtook her, and with one last look at the man above her, she fell down, having fainted.

When she woke, only minutes later, she found herself being tied to the bed. She couldn't move as much as an inch, and she realised that she was incredibly, and embarrassingly nude. Her whole body hurt like hell, she could feel one of her ribs moving when she breathed, and she was pretty sure that her wrist was broken as well.

"Now," Riddle said. He was standing by the window, his wand in his hand, probably planning some evil scheme to get Hermione to shut up once and for all. "Tell me what you are researching with your little friends."

"I can't," Hermione repeated. "Dumbledore made us all swear – "

"I. Don't. Care," Riddle bellowed at her. He climbed on top of her so that he was sitting on her stomach. "Tell me."

"Dumbledore made me – "

He slapped her hard across the face, making her cheek burn like it was on fire. "You're trying my patience," he snarled evilly at her. "Tell me, or I will have to hurt you."

When she didn't answer, he simply waved his wand once. Hermione was expecting excruciating pain, but all that happened was that the ties around her hands were loosened, and she floated up in the air. Riddle waved his wand again, and she turned around on her stomach, and fell flat down on the bed, her wrists being tied to the bedposts again.

"Last chance, Hermione," he threatened. "What are you researching."

Her throat tightened, and she had to stifle a sob. She really couldn't tell him, Dumbledore would be furious, and her friends would lose all respect for her. She could handle the pain, she could handle whatever came for her. She was strong.

Riddle loosened his belt, and looked down at her with a look of utter contempt. "I really do love you, Hermione," he said, "but this is for the best. Hermione braced herself for what came next, and she let out a loud shriek as his belt made contact with her lower back.


	19. And When Your Back Begins To Smart

**A/N:** Wow, summer is boring. Keeping me from doing anything really.

* * *

The morning after, Hermione woke feeling like she'd been run over by a very violent train. She'd passed out from the pain some time after Riddle had begun his excessive abuse on her, and waking up was really not all too pleasant. Noticing, however, that she had been untied sometime between her passing out and now, she shakily tried to raise herself of the bed. With an enormous force of strength, she managed to sit up, but she was so exhausted for even trying, that she wasn't sure how she could ever manage to get herself to the bathroom or to classes for that matter.

Her gaze swept the room, Riddle was gone, but in his place, there was a note lying on the bed. She slowly reached out for it, feeling the wounds on her back crack open as she did. Her hands were shaking like a madman when she opened the letter, and read it with a look of utter disgust on her face.

_Hermione,_

_I will see you tonight._

_Tom_.

Feeling the rage build in her, she crumbled the small note in to a ball and threw it as hard as she could over the room. Did he really expect her to be here when he got back? Didn't he even worry that she might actually be seriously injured? She needed to get out of there, but had no idea how she was going to do it. If she could only call for help, but no one would hear her up here. But who could she really ask, she wondered. Not Harry, he would murder Riddle on the spot, not Ron, who would probably do the exact same thing, and Ginny would just give her a pity trip. She didn't need pity, she needed help.

_Draco_, she thought. Having no idea how to reach him though, Hermione was still sitting there feeling both angry and so incredibly humiliated. If they only had some sort of text messaging system like the muggles had, there would absolutely no problem with this, but sadly, they hadn't. How she wished she could send mental messages to the smirking blonde.

Very well, she couldn't just sit there, so she carefully tried to stumble herself on her feet. Okay, good, she thought when she was standing. Now it was just to move forward. It was excruciating pain, her broken rib poking her skin in the most uncomfortable manner, and she could feel blood trickling down her back. Grinding her teeth together, however, she managed to find her wand and get dressed by magic. She didn't often do that, she didn't prefer the simple ways, but today she simply didn't care. Probably, she could have magicked away all her pains as well, but she had next to no experience in that area, and she was afraid that the strain it would put on her body would make matters even worse. So with one last look back at the room, she took her book bag, and stumbled out of the Room of Requirement.

The halls of Hogwarts were pretty much deserted, most of the students had classes, and those who didn't were probably in their common rooms. She decided to avoid the Great Hall or the library, seeing as she didn't want anyone to see her right then, she probably looked like a wreck.

Hermione was really supposed to have potions now, which meant that Draco was too. Riddle was up in the Astronomy towers, Hermione believed, so it wouldn't be any problem to go down to the basement. That was, if she could manage to get down the stairs without falling or the pain getting the best of her.

Half-way towards the dungeons however, she managed to fall down at the bottom at the stairs, and could for the life of her not get up again. Luckily for her, a second year walked out of a classroom at that very moment.

"Are you okay, miss," the boy asked. It was a Gryffindor, Hermione vaguely recalled him asking an awful lot of questions on his first day last year.

"No," Hermione groaned, she tried to get up again, but she just fell down again, the pain was too much for her body.

"I'll get someone," the second year said. "Professor Flitwick is just inside and –"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "Get me Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. He's in the potions dungeons."

"But professor Flitwick –"

"Please," Hermione said, before the pain got the best of her again and she fainted again.

What only seemed like minutes later, Hermione was awakened by the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy, asking if she could hear him. Hermione didn't answer at first, she opened her eyes and saw that the blonde was standing above her with a worried look upon his face. She looked around her, and noticed that they were in that familiar room in the library.

"Thank Merlin, you're awake," Draco said. "I was about to get Madame Pomfrey you know. What the hell happened to you?"

"I fell," Hermione groaned, her voice cracking. She felt extremely dizzy, and absolutely every fibre of her being was in so much pain she could hardly contain herself. It was like she had been under the cruciatus curse non-stop for the past twelve hours.

"Oh, I do very much believe that," Draco said dryly. At least he had some sense of humour, Hermione thought bitterly. "Can you sit up?"

"No," Hermione said after trying to get up again, her head was spinning so much that she just had to lie down again. "Do you think you can heal me?" She knew Draco had some experience from healing Slytherins in the dungeons, which'd had _accidents_ with other students.

"I don't know how serious this is, Hermione," Draco said with doubt in his voice. "I might not. I can heal your cracked rib though."

"I have wounds too… On my back."

Draco helped her off with her clothes so she only laid there in her bra and panties. Draco didn't at all seem to care about that fact though, he was far too worried about the bruised skin on both her thighs and her upper body.

"You look like you've been run over by a herd of angry hippogriffs," he muttered as he carefully pressed on some of her bruises, making her whimper in pain. "It doesn't look like these are very serious though, although, I think you have a cracked rib."

"It's been poking my skin all day," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

With Draco's help, she managed to turn around so she was lying on her stomach. She heard Draco gasp in horror as he saw the marks on her back.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he said sternly, "if I ever get a hold of Tom Riddle, I will blast his fucking head off."

"Draco," Hermione whispered. "Please don't do anything to him."

"Not right now," anyway he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. "Right now I have to clean up his mess." Hermione watched as he brought out his wand and pointed it at her back. "This is going to fucking hurt, so brace yourself," Draco said, before starting to mutter a healing spell that sounded almost like a song. "Vulnera Sanentur… Vulnera Sanentur… Vulnera Sanentur…"

Hermione screamed out in pain as the spell started to work. Riddle smacking her over her back with the belt was nothing in comparison to this. She fell in an out of consciousness for the good ten minutes Draco worked the spell. "Vulnera Sanentur… Vulnera Sanentur…"

"There we go," he said when the pain had eased from Hermione's back. Draco called on Kreacher and asked him to bring water and something with a lot of sugar in it. Soon after, a couple of bottles of water and pumpkin pasties the size of Hermione's fists stood in front of them.

"Eat," Draco commanded her. Hermione struggled herself up in a half-sitting, half laying manner, but soon fell back on the cushions. Draco positioned himself behind her, and managed to keep her seated against his chest, proceeding to feed her small pieces of cake, and forcing her to drink two bottles of water.

"You have to leave him, Hermione," he said after a while. "You can't let him do this to you."

"I can't," she whispered. "I have promised to be his. I have… It's… It's complicated."

"What are you so afraid of," Draco asked, "if you can stand this treatment from him, then you can stand breaking up with him."

"You don't understand, Draco," Hermione said. She felt better, but she didn't want to leave Draco just yet. "He threatened to hurt the people I love…" A tear fell down her cheek. "And Draco, I love him."

"I better get you fixed up," Draco said through clenched teeth. "I think I'll be able to fix that broken rib of yours, and the rest will heal over time. You're not hurting anymore, are you?"

Hermione turned her head to look at the Slytherin, he was looking determined and maybe even angry. Putting her back on the pillows, Draco got up and took out his wand again, this time it was only a simple spell that got her rib to painfully snap back into place. "Episkey," Drago said and moved his wand in a most admirable manner.

"Have you considered becoming a healer," Hermione asked as she felt her newly healed rib. She tried to get up, and it worked very well, actually. Her muscles were really sore, and her back was still hurting quite a lot, but she could live with that pain.

"I have," Draco answered. "You'll need to get back to Riddle then." And with those words, he left abruptly, leaving Hermione alone, staring at the door.


	20. Little Hangleton

**A/N**: Hellooo! I hope you are having a lovely summer! Only three chapters left now! adghjkhaf. But I don't know when the last one will be up, because I re-read it, and wanted to smash my head against a rock. Safe to say: it needs re-writing, because maaan, it's all mushy and twilight-y. Ugh. Anywaaay. I'm writing on a new fic that is Dramione I think, so that will be posted when I bother to get done with it. Also, The Smell of Apples, people(Drarry!). My ships are all over the place.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

xoxo

* * *

The rest of the week went by in a blur. Tom was being his usual half-cheery self again, telling her how much he cared about her, and not pushing the matter of her telling what the gang was up to. He made sure Hermione understood perfectly clear why he had to hurt her, and, Hermione didn't understand how she'd reached the conclusion, but it actually made sense. All the attention and care Tom was giving her, made Hermione feel like a silly little fourteen year old with her first crush on the captain of the soccer team (or Quidditch, if they were speaking wizard).

"I don't want you to leave tomorrow," Tom said as they were lying in bed together the night before Hermione, the Weasley's, Harry and Draco were to leave for the unknown town Dumbledore had been searching for the past week. They had the impression that he had found the place, but he didn't tell them, probably because he was afraid of someone overhearing them.

"I don't want to leave," Hermione said softly. "But," and now her voice was cautious, "if we get what we want… I won't have to leave you again. And I will tell you everything."

"You promise," he asked and stroked a wisp of hair from her face.

"I promise," she said, smiling.

Tom put his arms around her, and held her in a protective, but soft grip. She listened to him fall asleep, and Hermione, right then, felt utter and completely happy. There were actual butterflies floating around in her stomach, just because of the handsome boy, that man or monster – depending on his mood – that was lying next to her. She was threading in dangerous waters, she thought to herself, but she couldn't help it. It felt completely right, like she'd always imagined Lily and James Potter love to be like, or her parents when they first met – that it just felt _right_ despite all their differences.

The morning after, they got dressed together. Hermione was sad that she had to leave Tom for one whole weekend, and a bit scared for her return. But she knew she would have news for him when they came home, she just knew, and then it would all be over.

"I will see you over the weekend then, my love," Tom said and leaned in for a proper goodbye-kiss.

Not long after, Hermione was sitting in Dumbledore's office with Harry, Ron, Ginny and Draco by her side. Draco had barely spoken a word to her since that day when he'd helped her recover, but she simply didn't care. If he was going to go on acting like a spoiled brat, then that was his problem, not hers. She was a grown woman, for Merlin's sake, and frankly, it was none of his business. A little voice in her head tried to reason with her though, about her making it Draco's business when she'd called on his help, but she pushed it away.

"You will be going to a charming little town of Little Hangleton," Dumbledore said to them. "I've gotten you rooms at the local inn, so you won't have to camp out in a tent. They didn't have more than three rooms though, so you will have to argue over who will have their own room on your own, that is none of my business. When you get there, make sure you don't stumble upon any Death Eaters, do not use the name Voldemort, because you never know what kind of traps he can have put out there."

Not long after, with the help of a portkey, the five of them were standing outside the inn of Little Hangleton. The whole town looked like it had some form of grand splendour in the past, but as the people had grown older, so had the town. Up on a hill, Hermione noticed a grand and rather overgrown house. It also had that same feeling of old splendour, but as time had taken its toll on it, it had simply started falling apart. They had the directions for the Gaunt family house, and would go there first thing after they had checked in.

The rooms at the inn were quite small, but they looked comfortable enough. Harry and Ginny decided that they would have one of the bedrooms to themselves, and that Hermione, Draco and Ron would have to argue over who got their own room.

"Granger will be sleeping with me," Draco said simply after Harry and Ginny had left.

"I will not," Hermione said tiredly, she really wasn't in the mood for Draco's little games now.

"Well, I'm not sleeping in the same bed as that git," Ron grunted, "and Lavender would certainly _not_ be happy if I shared a bed with _you_ of all people."

"Then it's decided then," Draco said and practically shoved Hermione in to their room. It was a shabby, rather dusty room with moth eaten bed spreads.

"How… lovely," she remarked.

After settling in to their rooms, the group gathered in Harry and Ginny's room. They decided to split the work, so they wouldn't all be working on the same things at once. Hermione had promptly decided that she and Harry would be going to the Gaunt house, while the rest was going to dig through the family heritage books in the library.

"Why were you so contempt at having me all to yourself," Harry asked as they walked through the biting cold towards the old Gaunt house.

"Because Malfoy is going on and on about me and Riddle, and I just can't stand to listen to him anymore," Hermione said annoyed. "And now I have to share a bedroom with him as well. I'm just tired."

"You didn't seem to care last weekend," Harry remarked. "Have you thought… That maybe Draco could be… well, in love with you?"

Hermione didn't answer at first, she just drew her jacket closer around her. "I don't think so," she said after a few moments of silence. "He told me he wasn't… attracted to me."

They walked in silence for a while, and after a couple of hundred metres through the woods, they could see a small shack. It was a really pitiful place, it looked like the shrieking shack, but smaller and even more torn down and damaged by the wind. Hermione looked around her, before she drew her wand, not wanting to go unarmed into the lot.

Taking the lead, Harry cautiously stepped in to the lot, and reached for the doorknob. Hermione stopped him with a hand on his shoulder though. "It can be hexed," she pointed out. She waved her wand, trying to detect any traces of magic, but she didn't find any. Harry stared at her bluntly, and slowly turned the doorknob.

If the outside of the house was run down, the insides certainly weren't any better. The walls were a depressing shade of grey, the same went for both the kitchen counters and the small seating area. The walls were tagged down, undoubtfully by muggle teenagers.

After searching the place from top to bottom though, it was clear that Voldemort probably never had sat foot in the abandoned shack. There were absolutely no traces of anything of value for them or of any dark magic younger than about 70 years. Sulkily, they returned to the inn, only to meet the rest of their group sulking by the bar. They hadn't found anything either, so they decided just to eat supper and go to bed early, hoping for better luck the day after.


	21. Solving The Riddle

**A/N**: Hi everybody! So after last time a lot of shit has happened with the history. I've completely changed the ending... So yeah. Heeeh. Maybe I'll upload just the one I'm happy about, or maybe I'll upload both. Maybe I'll upload it in the "extra" chapter with all the shit I thought about while writing this story. Woo. Anyway, I hope you like this one!

xoxo

* * *

The morning after, the group had a quick breakfast before heading for the library. It was a rather gloomy library, Hermione thought, but then again, the whole town was rather gloomy. They, however, didn't find anything, and when they returned for supper, the three of them were in an impeccably bad mood. They didn't much fancy staying in this town for very much longer, but it appeared they had no choice.

Hermione was particularly annoyed by this, seeing as Draco had spent the best part of last night trying to convince her that Tom Riddle was an utter and complete arse that should probably be erased from the earth all together. Hermione had seriously considered doing exactly that to Draco though, after having listened to his shit all night.

"I just care about you," Draco had said rather grumpily. "Everything that is wrong with the world is combined in that very person."

"Oh shut it, Draco," Hermione had answered, equally sour. "I don't have to listen to you."

"Well then, maybe I'll tell Potter," Draco had threatened. "Since you clearly don't listen to me, maybe you will listen to wonderboy."

"If you tell them, I will hex you from here to next Sunday," Hermione had growled dangerously at him. "You're just fucking jealous, of what, I don't know, nor do I care. But one thing certainly is crystal clear; you can't handle people being happy when you are in such a foul mood yourself."

Draco's hand had flinched in the general direction of his wand pocket, but he had stopped himself from doing anything stupid. "If that is what you really feel, _Granger_," he'd said stiffly. "I won't bother you anymore. Just don't come crawling to me if anything happens to you, I will _not_ help you."

"Fine by me," Hermione had said stubbornly, and watched as Draco stomped out of the room, probably heading for Ron's room. Still fuming with anger towards Draco, she'd gotten to bed, not even bothering to turn off the lights. The bed was cold though, and Hermione had started to feel a twinge of regret for being that mean to Draco. But then again, he had deserved it, seeing as he was even worse than Harry and Ron at sticking his nose in other people's business. Her thoughts drifted away towards the Room of Requirement though, and soon her head was filled with warm kisses and loving touches from Tom. Smiling, she drifted away to dreamland.

Dragging her mind back to dinner, Hermione noticed that every last person in the group was sour and grumpy, even Ginny who usually was in a good mood.

"Well, we'll never find anything in this dump," Ron said grumpily through a mouthful of pasta.

"At least we all believe this will be easy," Draco drawled at Ron. In spite of herself, Hermione had to laugh. She had refused to talk to Draco all day after what had happened the night before, and from the looks of it, Draco didn't much fancy talking to her either. This, of course, suited Hermione very well, seeing as she wanted absolutely nothing to do with that brainless, incompetent git.

"But you have to remember," Ginny said matter-of-factly, "that old blood bat Marvolo Gaunt despised Merope for marrying a _commoner_."

"Yes, there probably isn't even a clue of who she married. Besides, the Gaunts, from the look of it, was the town's only black mark." Hermione was thoughtful though, she felt as though the answer was right in front of her nose.

"Gaunt you say, eh sweetie?" An old man had approached them, clearly being curious about what they were talking about. "T'was quite the scandal when the daughter of tha' bum ran off with the son of the riches' fam'ly in town." He snorted. "They lived righ' up on tha' 'ill, the man'sion."

Hermione and Harry looked at each other, could they really trust this man, or was it a trick from Voldemorts side? Before they could question him any further though, the old man left them for the bar, obviously not caring anymore.

"We'll just have to visit the mansion then," Harry said simply.

Not long after dinner, they ventured toward the old house. They'd decided that there was no point in waiting for the day after, so there they were, walking beside each other in the gloomy cold.

The house was over grown, it didn't look like there had been a gardener there for some time, and the house simply looked worn down. There was a name tag beside the door, but it was so rusty that none of them were able to make out any of the names.

"Alohomora," Draco muttered, and the door swung open. Going inside, Hermione shuddered. The house had clearly been abandoned for quite some time now; there were cobwebs in every corner, and the faint smell of mildew. They decided to stick together, just in case Voldemort had reached the place before them.

Having lit their wands, they ventured through the hallway and into the kitchen. There was nothing there of any interest, neither was there in the dining room or the sitting room downstairs. They slowly creped around the house looking for any clues that Lord Voldemort was there, or that his father had ever lived there for that matter. Who was this man? The son of the richest family in town, running away with the daughter of the town's bum, it just didn't add up. Maybe Merope Gaunt had bewitched the boy in some form, but Hermione could hardly believe it.

A shriek was heard from upstairs, and Hermione quickly looked up from the book she was looking through. Ginny wasn't among them anymore, oh, bugger. They ran up the stairs, only to find Ginny standing in a pool of dried blood.

"The fuck, Weasley," Draco drawled. "You didn't have to scare us shitless." He smartly waved his wand, and his pale face suddenly showed horror. "The blood has been here for about two years," he said, not even bothering to tell them where he'd learned that spell. "The Dark Lord killed this person, or rather; his bloody pet snake killed this person."

A collective shudder went through the group, of course they had expected this, but they thought that Lord Voldemort would bother to clean up his mess. They went through the rooms upstairs, finding nothing, and finally they walked into what seemed to be a reading room.

It was a room that hinted of former splendour, there was a big fireplace with two large armchairs in front of it. On one of the walls, there was nothing but book shelves, and on the other there were large floor-to-roof windows facing the small town of Little Hangleton.

There were no more traces of blood inside the small room, but the books would hopefully be of some help at least. Hermione had a feeble hope that they would at least point them in what direction they needed to go.

"Nothing in this one, either," Ron said after what had to be the twentieth book they had gone through. "It's like these people were completely nameless."

Ginny however didn't say a word; her face had gone ashen pale, and her hands were trembling violently. Harry went over to her to see if she was alright, and he too went completely pale within seconds of looking inside the book Ginny was holding.

"What is it," Hermione and Draco asked simultaneously.

With one quick movement, Hermione was by their side, looking down at the book. She could feel the blood leave her face in an instant, her stomach clenching and her heart skip several beats. A feeling of absolute dread shivered down her spine, and she could hardly keep herself standing up. There it was, clear as day. That one name that had meant everything to her, that _still _meant everything to her, had gone so horribly wrong. Silently, she prayed that this wasn't true, that she didn't see what she was actually seeing with her own two eyes. Hoping, that this was some trick from the gods of the heavens, she closed her eyes and opened them again. The name was still written inside the book with a neat hand writing that was oh-so-familiar.

_Tom Riddle._


	22. The Story

Hermione woke in the infirmary what had to be several hours later. She vaguely remembered being half carried, half supported back to the inn in the small town, and from there she believed that Dumbledore had come to get them in a rather hurried manner. She felt absolutely exhausted though, and her eyelids just kept getting heavier and heavier, and soon she fell into a deep slumber again.

The next time Hermione woke, it was the middle of the day, she felt much more awake, but still her heart and soul seemed to be crushed into a million little pieces. How could she possibly not have noticed that she was dealing with the _Dark Lord_? Her mind was screaming at her for being so incredibly stupid. But then again, she hadn't been dealing with Lord Voldemort, Hermione Granger had been with Tom Riddle, _the seventy year old wizard who had killed so many people_. She needed to find him, she needed some explanation. Was she stupid for actually believing that he'd loved her?

With a quick movement, Hermione sat up in bed, but was quickly stopped by Madam Pomfrey who had rushed out from her office.

"Good, you're up," she said briskly. "Dumbledore had to give you a quite powerful sleeping draught to get you to calm down. Apparently you were having some sort of fit." She huffed dramatically.

"How long have I been here," Hermione asked rather irritated as she nurse started to check her up.

"Oh, a couple of days," Madam Pomfrey answered in a somewhat airily manner.

Tom, Hermione thought. What if they had already killed him, before she could even get a chance to say goodbye, before she could even get a chance of an explanation, before she could get the chance to tell him for real, that she loved him? But she couldn't love her, could she? Could she actually be in love with Lord Voldemort? No, she was in love with Tom Riddle. The amazingly sweet or equally dangerous man that she had come to love, despite all of his threats towards her, that she had fallen steadily for ever since the first day they'd met.

"I got to go," Hermione said hastily and tried to get up, but Madam Pomfrey simply pushed her back in bed again.

"You will most certainly not. I will go call on Dumbledore now. And the door to the infirmary will be locked." With a knowing glance in Hermione's direction, she quickly left the infirmary, leaving Hermione to herself.

Pacing around the infirmary she tried to rationalize her brain, to calm the fuck down. But she actually had no idea how to calm down, she'd never been so angry, so scared, so hurt in her entire life, and it was all because some stupid, fucking mission that Dumbledore had put them on. Who knows what Riddle, or Voldemort, or whatever, would have done if Dumbledore hadn't interrupted them. On the other hand, they could have lived a happy life together after Hogwarts, they could have started something. She didn't know, she didn't fucking know, and if there was one thing Hermione Jean Granger hated, it was not knowing anything. Angrily, she kicked one of the chamber pots, breaking it to pieces.

"Madam Pomfrey won't be happy with that." Albus Dumbledore was standing in the entrance to the infirmary, looking calm as ever. Didn't he understand?

A boiling rage hit Hermione like a punch in the stomach, and she couldn't contain herself anymore. "I DON'T BLOODY CARE," she yelled at the professor. "I DON'T GIVE A FLYING RATS ARSE ABOUT THE BLOODY CHAMBER POTS." She proceeded to take the first thing she could see, a small table, and throw it across the room.

"Ms Granger, please calm down," professor Dumbledore said calmly.

"NO, I WON'T CALM THE FUCK DOWN," she screamed at him. "You don't fucking understand a damn bloody thing."

"Then explain it to me," he said and went on to sit on one of the beds, like he was having bloody Sunday tea with his mother.

"No," she hissed, "you explain. You explain how this could have happened, how you could possibly have put me in this fucking situation."

Dumbledore didn't answer at once, making Hermione, if possible, even angrier at him. He simply cleaned off his glasses on his robes and looked at her. The twinkle in his eyes had seemed to disappear, and Hermione had to feel pity for the man.

"I made a mistake," he said simply. "The thing is, when it is expected from someone to be right all the time, it is so much worse when a mistake happens."

Hermione didn't answer, she didn't need his philosophy lessons, she needed a proper answer. "Tell me," she said, "everything he's done."

"After Voldemort went into hiding after having revived himself from Harry's blood, he started working on an elixir. It seems that he had been working on the idea for quite a while, because it's a most efficient elixir which gave him his old looks and partially his youth back." Dumbledore looked somewhat impressed, Hermione was not. "Now he could again be that young, handsome boy who could return to Hogwarts to finish what he started, to kill Harry Potter. None of us knew that Tom Riddle and Marvolo Gaunt were actually the same person, Tom was named Tom Marvolo Gaunt Riddle before his mother died. I believe that his plan was to get close to you so he could somehow try to get close to Harry. That obviously didn't work, seeing as your loyalties are impeccable, Ms Granger." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her again. "Mr Malfoy told me everything you've had to go through the last year, Hermione, and I'm most impressed by you. To not go under during that kind of torture is remarkable."

"You don't understand," she whispered silently. Her rage had gone into hiding for a while, and all she was left with was a numb sensation in her body, making her totally and completely unable to feel anything. She didn't even feel sad that Tom had lied to her. "How did… Harry and Ginny not… recognize him? How didn't McGonagall, they went to school together."

"That is an excellent question, Ms Granger," Dumbledore answered. "He has used a simple, but most effective, spell that has erased their memories of him, and in Harry's case, of the name and place of his return. The spell broke the moment they saw the name Tom Riddle of course, because then it all started to fit together." There was a long silence before Dumbledore started to speak again. "What I don't understand, but you might help me explain, is why Riddle made you stay with him every night, even if he didn't want any information from you."

"You don't understand," she repeated louder. "He didn't make me stay, I chose to stay. I chose to be his, I promised to be his." She gave her ring to Dumbledore who examined it with a sharp look. "When he wasn't angry, he was so kind and caring, and an absolute perfect gentleman… and I love him." She had to force back her tears as she said those three words that made her hurt and fear come back with double the strength. "But you wouldn't understand," she said bitterly.

Dumbledore got up and walked towards the window. "Once upon a time I was young and in love as well," he said silently. "This isn't something I usually go telling people about, but I can trust you to keep this little secret. When I was a young boy living in Godric's Hollow, I was extremely bored, and my neighbour got a visit from her nephew. I was very much taken by this man, but I don't think he ever returned the feelings. He went on to take on Europe and cause a lot of death and misery, and finally I had to step up and defeat him."

"Grindelwald," Hermione said, rather aghast at Dumbledore's story. "But he's still alive, isn't he? He's imprisoned in Nurmengard."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, sounding tired. He walked towards her again, and Hermione had to smile at the old man, despite all her misery. "I have thought about visiting him, of course, but I never found a reason to, not until now."

"Where is Tom," Hermione suddenly asked. Not wanting to go closer in on the whole Grindelwald business with Dumbledore.

"We don't know," Dumbledore admitted. "As far as any of us know, he hasn't left the school. The secret entrances have been cleared, and for all we know, he might not even know that we know who he is."

Hermione suddenly realised where Tom could be though, he was probably in the Room of Requirement, of course he would have to be there. He was probably waiting for her, because she'd promised him to tell him everything she knew when she got back. Her face lit up like a lantern, and the professor looked at her with a worried expression.

"Hermione," he said cautiously, "he is dangerous."

"I know," Hermione said simply. "Please, professor. I need to talk to him." She begged him, tears welling up in her eyes as she did, and the professor seemed to take pity in her. Maybe he thought back to his old days, when all the wrong choices were taken by all the wrong people.

"One hour," he said sternly, and before Hermione could even thank him, she had run through the door.

* * *

**A/N**: Just a little filler here. Nothing much to talk about. The Grand Finale of this incredibly long fic with incredibly short and annoying chapters will be up in a weeks time. I apreciate it if you would leave a review for me!

xoxo


	23. The Runaway

**A/N**: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER PEOPLE. I may post the epilogue later, but for now I will set it to complete. This is not the orignal last chapter by the way, the orignal one, I ended up hating because of reasons. So here is the final chapter that I'm actually happy with!

I hope you have enjoyed my little story, and I love all of you who have ever read it!

xoxo

* * *

Hermione was sprinting through the halls of Hogwarts, without even caring if she ran into anyone. Only one thing was on her mind, and that was Tom Riddle. She had to ask him, if any of it were true, she needed to know. Outside the Room of Requirement, Hermione started pacing around, begging the door to open, to show her Tom. When it finally did, Hermione didn't even bother to knock, she just barged in.

"Hermione," Tom said with a pleasant smile. He was sitting on the bed, doing homework from the looks of it, and looking like he didn't have a single care in the world. "It's good to see you, how was-"

"Don't," Hermione fumed, the rage finally starting to get a hold of her. "Don't _fucking Hermione me you son of a-"_

"What's the matter," he asked with a puzzled expression upon his face.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said in mock wonder. "Perhaps you could tell me _Marvolo Gaunt_, or maybe you prefer Lord Voldemort nowadays?"

Tom's face went from pale to ashen in the matter of seconds, and a look of utter shock went across his face. He sat up abruptly, spreading books and parchment over the floor in front of him. He started to walk up to her, but Hermione suddenly didn't want him near her. She drew her wand and pointed it at his chest before he could even react.

"Explain yourself, _Gaunt_," she said coolly.

Riddle slowly backed off, with his hands held up in the air as if to say that he wasn't armed and wasn't going to hurt her. With slow steps, he walked towards the window she'd seen him by so many times, looking, but not really _seeing_ out of it. Hermione watched him cautiously, insecure about what to do about the situation. Should she call up Dumbledore, let him know where he was? No, she couldn't do that just yet, besides, Harry must have seen on the map where she went.

"I had a plan," Tom finally said, after several moments of silence. "I foolishly believed that you and _Potter_-" he spat Harry's name "- were an item, and I was going to exchange you for him." He seemed annoyed, but it appeared to be over his own stupidity, rather than Hermione finding out the truth. "Once it was obvious though, that it wasn't the case, I had to rethink my plans. I had gotten to know you, like my plan had been all along, and it seemed so simple; I could seduce you. Having you wrapped around my fingers would be a golden opportunity to infiltrate the Order and finding out their strengths and weaknesses. However, I wasn't very successful; your loyalty is impeccable, Hermione." He sent her a weak smile, and Hermione could feel her body loosen up just a little.

"If I had been loyal, I would never have gone out with you in the first place," Hermione said, again alert and with an icy chill in her voice. "I should have seen right through you, you despicable…"

"Maybe you're right," he sighed. He sounded tired, not at all like his usual cockish self with all the energy in the world. "There was however one thing I never could have foreseen, one thing that wasn't a part of the plan. It was a stupid mistake, and the magic… well, it shouldn't even be possible," he trailed off.

"Oh, what could _possibly_ the perfect _Tom Riddle_ not foresee," Hermione drawled in a very Draco-esque manner. There was a rather pregnant pause where Riddle didn't answer her, he just turned and gazed out the window again. Hermione was on the verge of storming out, leaving The Dark Lord to the Aurors, when he finally said it.

"I fell in love with you." A twinge of pain crossed his face, as if it was actually, indeed, paining him to say it. "The magic shouldn't even allow it, but you are the only one who is up to my intellectual level. You are the only one who has _ever_ dared to cross me… And at first I found it impressive and attractive that you dared to challenge me, even though you didn't know who I am… But with every night spent here, the feelings got a little stronger, and I read up on the library, and it shouldn't even be possible because of the bloody love potion. But here I am, and I'm in love with you, Hermione Granger."

Hermione huffed, not really believing the words she was hearing. He had never said it so clean and so simple before, without it being some kind of apology or a threat for that matter. Without even realising it, her rage slowly left her body, and she was left with a kind of numbness. She lowered her wand, and looked over at Tom, he hadn't moved an inch.

Between what was right, and what felt right, Hermione couldn't help but think that she loved him too. Not the Lord Voldemort in him, of course, nor the abusive and threatening Tom, just the Tom who was standing in front of her right now. "The Aurors are on their way," Hermione said silently, hating herself for it. She offered a way out for the Dark Lord, but then again, she didn't really know him as the Dark Lord, she only knew Tom Riddle. And Tom Riddle was good – and bad – enough for her. "We could run, hide even."

"Hermione," he started, but she cut him off.

"No, please. They will _kill_ you, Tom. They won't just throw you in Azkaban for a couple of years, they will _murder_ you on the spot." She realised now that she was crying. She didn't understand her own mind, how on earth she could care so much about Lord Voldemort, the man who had brutally murdered her best friend's parents. She didn't understand it, and all good sense in her told her to run away, but what got the better part of her was the longing after the man in front of him. She couldn't let them kill him, it wouldn't… No, it wouldn't do.

"You care for me," he said with a look of amusement in his eyes. "After everything I've done… You care for me?" His face fell again, and Hermione could see a tear rolling slowly down his cheek.

"I don't care about Voldemort," she answered slowly. "I care about Tom Riddle."

"I killed Lucas," he said stubbornly, his face hard, and the red shining in his eyes. He said it like he wanted Hermione to run away, to hate him.

Of course, it dawned upon her then. Of course he had killed, sweet, beautiful, Lucas. A pang of regret shot through her chest, and he seemed to be almost successful in getting her to run away, when she heard the voiced outside. Tom looked up as well, outside there was most definitively shuffling of feet and angry voices shouting at each other.

"Tom, we have to run," Hermione said, panic stricken. She couldn't let him die, not tonight.

He slowly reached out and took Hermione's hand in his own. His hands were warm and comforting, and Hermione felt tears rolling down her cheek again. "We can't," he said silently.

"They will kill you," Hermione said frantically.

"I said _we_ can't," he muttered. "I can't let you run away with me, Hermione. I can't let you make the same mistakes as I have. The fact that you want to do this scares me. I don't want you to be any other person than exactly who you are, and if you go away with me… You will change, you will not be the same."

"I don't care," she said, holding on to his hands for dear life. "I don't bloody care if I change. You can't leave me here alone." She was almost yelling at him now in between the sobs who were escaping her throat. "We can start a new life together. Go to France or Russia or _whatever_. Just you and me."

Tom looked at her with a face that was struck with pain and grief enough for a lifetime. "I can't change who I am," he said, "and I don't want to change who you are." He reached out and held her tight into his chest. "Hermione, I love you." He bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. Hermione could feel her heart breaking as she leaned in to him, hungry for as much contact with him as possible. "I will have to bind you now," he said silently, "so you won't try to follow me." Before Hermione could even move an inch, a rope slithered around her like a snake, making her fall over.

"Tom," she said as he quickly gathered up a few things from the room and put in a small bag he'd magicked out.

He didn't answer her, he just bent down and kissed her one last time.

"I'm yours to keep," she whispered at him.

The next few things that happened, happened very fast. Tom had obviously asking the Room of Requirement for a way out, for soon a door materialised itself on one of the walls, and Tom looked back at Hermione with a small smile. "And I'm yours… So until next time, Hermione," he said, before he opened the door, which disappeared behind him the moment he went in. The next thing that happened was that the whole Order barged in the door to the Room of Requirement, sending stunning spells in every direction.

"Hermione!" Draco, Ron and Harry said it at the same time, and the three of them helped her get out of the ropes Tom had bound her in, all very eager to help. They mistook her crying for tears of fear, and they all hugged her, trying to get her to calm down.

"He's gone, Hermione," Draco said, stroking her hair.

The next few days went by in a blur. Hermione was taken to the hospital wing, where she was force-fed chocolates by a very brisk madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore didn't show up, but Harry, Draco, Ron and Ginny were constantly by her side. Hermione couldn't for the life of her figure out why they couldn't leave her alone, she needed to be sad by herself for a while, but they didn't seem to understand. Hell, they didn't seem to understand that she was sad, and not frightened.

It was nearly a week later when she finally found herself alone in the middle of the day. She was lying in the hospital bed, reading a book. Not that she actually got something from the book though, her mind kept wandering back to Tom, and to what he had said right before he left. Next time, maybe he would come back for her, when things had settled. It was foolish to think so of course, but it was a good hope to hold on to.

"Getting back to old habits, I see," the voice of Albus Dumbledore said. Hermione looked up, and saw the old man standing over her with a small smile on his face.

"Professor," Hermione said and sat up in her bed. "I didn't see you come in."

He simply smiled. "I need to ask you something," he said after a while. The old man sat down on the bed opposite Hermione, and looked at her with a much more serious look.

"You want to know what he said before he left," Hermione said, now fighting back the tears again. Dumbledore simply nodded. "He said we'd see each other again." She fingered the ring she still bore on her right hand. "That was all. And that he was…" she cut off herself.

"I didn't catch the last part," Dumbledore said.

"He was afraid that if I came with him, that I would change," Hermione said. "And that he loved me, despite the love potion."

"Maybe there is hope for everyone," Dumbledore said slowly. "But I strongly advice you not to waste your life waiting for him, you have a much too brilliant mind to waste it on waiting."

Hermione smiled softly. "Professor," she asked as he was about to leave.

"Yes, miss Granger?"

"Do you think it was true… That he, after all this time, _could_ love. I mean, the love potion should have made it impossible, but…" she trailed off.

"I think so," Dumbledore answered. "Love works in mysterious ways, and is far stronger than any magic we teach here."

Hermione nodded and watched the old man leave. Maybe, just maybe, she could still have hope.


End file.
